A Field of Cloves
by fangissocoollike
Summary: In the world of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen wasn't the only one with a romance. ClovexCato
1. Chapter 1

WELCOME! Well first off I wanted to introduce my wonderful co-writer who WROTE THE WHOLE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER! She is amazing! I'm serious, I couldn't find find room for improvement! PLEASE R&R. ~*~ Whiphandgirl and ChibiPanda315

I felt the press of silky fabric slide onto my body. My mother scrambled about, pulling at certain areas of my body or tugging my dress upwards.

"Clove, Is this really necessary?" she mumbled, stepping back and trying to make me look perfect.

I sighed, then continued.

"Mother, if I am going to be picked for the Hunger Games, I want to look pretty don't I?" My mouth convulsed to a hidden snarl.

She stepped back again. My mother was somewhat tall, had even toned tan skin, and had dark lustrous eyes and hair that looked out of place. Her full lips continued.

It saddened her to know I was so interested in the brutal games, but what was she to expect? I was a raised in a Career District. We were trained from birth to worship the Games.

"If you're sure it's what you want darling." she said sighing, her hands staring to work on my beautifully soft and shiny ebony hair.

"Trust me mother. It is." Was she stupid? If it's what you want? Who wouldn't want it, except from all those snivelling morons in the poor districts, who were content with a life a mediocrity? The fame, the fortune, the everlasting glory? It was far too tempting for any self respecting child to turn down.

"Ouch!" I whipped a hand up to the back of my head as my mother stuck in pin into my scalp. Mother, be careful! Leave the bleeding for the Games!"

I swear I heard her mumble under her breath 'That's my biggest worry' before returning wearily to my hairdo.

It's only a few seconds before another pin is stuck violently into my head. This time I shriek out, pulling away from my mother's grasp. I twirl around on my heels to shout at her for being so clumsy, but by the time I'm facing her she is already red with anger.

A vase lays shattered at her feet, an old antique that has been in my family for certainly as long as I can remember. Really, the thing was hideously ugly, however it's really the concept of the damage that matters.

"Hone!" my mother cries, her long fingers pointing accusingly at the wreckage. "Look at this!" It's my older brother. I should have guessed. He really is the spit of our father. Light curly hair, soft green eyes, thick set. Nothing like me at all.

He pays no attention to mother, as usual. "Clove! Clove, you've got to come and see this! There's a massive fight right outside!" I forget all about my reaping outfit and the dull pain in the back of my head and tear downstairs, bursting out of the front door.

When Hone said 'right outside' he wasn't exaggerating. There is a huge amount of people around, some of them literally standing on my doorstep. If I didn't know better, I'd say the Reaping had already started. Shoving past them I make my way to the centre, earning dirty looks and profane shouts as I force my way through. As I embed myself further into the circle I begin to hear the deep and repeatative voices of a group of boys. They're calling a name. What is is? Cato?

Of course. Of course it's Cato. Violence is Cato's middle name. I'm close enough to see what's going on now, and I can't help but laugh out loud. Right in the core of the crowd a small boy stands. He is no older than fourteen, but the vicous snarl he holds on his face makes him look much older.

"You had enough big boy!" he cries. Imbecile. He's actually provoking him. Cato hasn't had enough. He never will have enough. He's just anticipating his next move. The thought has barely finished crossing my mind when Cato lunges at the boy. His huge arms grab him round the waist, bulldozing him right through the mass of people, sending him flying into a pyramid of wooden crates.

Terror flashes through the boys eyes as he sees Cato's hand coming towards him. He tries to yell, but it's to late. Cato's hitting him, smacking him, pounding him with his fists, on his face, his arms, his chest, anywhere he can reach. Under his short blond hair, Cato's face is so red it looks like he's about to explode.

It goes on like this for four more minutes, before the boy begins to bleed so profoundly people start to realise this isn't a joke. They try to pry Cato away, but he just swings around, knocking one of them out cold. I'm one of the only ones still laughing.

Finally they manage to get him off. He's still kicking and screaming and spitting at the boy, who is trembling and sobbing in a pool of his own blood as people rush to his aid. I don't know what he's done, but I should thank him for it. This is the most interesting thing that has happened all week, apart from the preparation for the Games, of course.

Cato is being restrained by a group of what I presume are his friends. They don't look like him though. They're weedy, spindly, _weak_. Surely he doesn't socialise with them? I trot over, eager to examine the reasons behind the battle.

"Cato?" I ask. The other boys look up. I've never seen them before. And I can tell by their confused glances to their blond friend that they've never seen me either. One of them, a short, skinny boy, enquires about me.

"You know her Cato?" The fear in his voice is instantly recognisable, and it becomes clear what they are. They're not friends, their followers. Lap-dogs, side-kicks, pets. He keeps them around for fun, and to do all the things he can't be bothered to do. And to cover his back when he does things like this.

He totally ignores the question. "Clove. Long time, no see. How have you been?"

"I'm breathing." I say with a shrug. A smile begins to form on his face as the anger melts away.

"And who'd you have to thank for that?" It's true. I do have to thank Cato for that. It was a long time ago. I was young, naive and seeking adventure. District Two is mostly used for training the Peacekeepers, due to our too-close-for-comfort reputation with the Capitol, but it also has a lot of stone mines scattered around. This is where I decided my adventure could take place. A lot of the mines are abandoned now, and there's all manner of nearly harmless creatures to be fought.

But there's a problem with the mines. They're unstable. The slightest movement in the earth around them can cause an avalanche of rock. So many workers have been killed like this over the years, people barley keep count anymore. It's too strenuous. If the Capitol ever asks, the Mayor makes up an approxiamte number. The Capitol never look to deeply into it.

I'd invited myself into the old mine near my village. The boys often hung around down there, since there was a pond, some trees, and a lot of old practise dummies that had been dumped after they'd been tore apart by the Hunger Game trainees. Everything they needed to keep their simple minds entertained. I figured if it was safe for them, it would be fine for me too, and maybe it would have been if I'd have stuck to the main path. But I soon grew bored of stabbing rats and spiders, and wanted a better challenge. I knew that higher up on the mine slopes their lived various herds of mountain goat, with big horns and strong hooves. A real adventure. So, grabbing my knives I began to climb. I couldn't have chosen a worse time.

Just as I was beginning to advance up the rock, I hear a flurry of hooves thunder down form above. A stampede. The rocks begin to shake all around me. There's nothing near me that's stable, and I know whatever I try to hold onto is going to fall. So I freeze, hoping my rock will be the stable one. It isn't.

I remember my life flashing before my eyes. I remember seeing my mother and my father, Hone, all of my friends, my beautiful home. All of the gorgeous reaping dresses I was yet to wear, all of the years of my life that I wouldn't ever get to live.

And then I was flying. Atleast I thought I was. I was being pulled up from above anyway, and my feet and arms weren't touching anything solid anymore. Surely I was dead. Then that voice kicked in.

"Are you stupid?" It's aggressive. It's violent. It's defiantly not a voice one hears when they're deceased. I opened an eye, realizing I'm now on my back, facing up into a face full of frustration. I was quite taken back. Nobody had ever spoken like that to me. I scramble up, brushing myself off trying to stare down the boy.

"Do I look stupid?" I spat, almost immediately regretting it.

"Yes." he stated simply. Ask a stupid question...

"Who are you anyway?" I asked probingly. He stared at me, his eyes distressing.

"My name's Cato." he mumbled.

"Clove."

After that, I spoke to Cato whenever I saw him around. We weren't close, but it was like we had some kind of mutual respect between eachother. Mainly because I didn't want anyone to know that I'd been saved, and he didn't want anyone to know he'd saved me. It was a lose-lose situation for both of us. We'd both look soft.

"What are you on about Cato?" a braver one of the followers said, popping from behind Cato's huge muscular body. He smirked at me.

"Nothing. Come on, let's go and find that little runt. See you round Clove." I just nod. That was one the longest conversations I'd ever had with Cato. No sooner had he and his gang dissapeared behind the corner, Hone came sprinting towards me, flanked by about ten others. He must have gone to spread the word after I ran off. Peering round he noticed the crowd dispursing and turned to me.

"What happened to the fight?" he asked. I just flip my hair over my shoulder.

"It ended." I say simply. Hone throws his hands up in the air in disappointment, groaning loudly.

"Sorry boys, false alarm!" he says, turning to shoo off the now moaning lads. They flip him off as they walk away, kicking the odd bit of broken wood and piece of fruit from the newly destoyed boxes.

"So, who was it?" Hone questions, leaning against the wall of our house.

"Cato and some tiny boy." My brother sighs. He seems to be the only one that notices my brief interactions with the aggressive blond.

"He's trouble Clove," he says, his voice suddenly serious. "You'd stay away from him, if you knew what was good for you." I blank him totally, swinging open the front door and sauntering back into the house.

By midday, the square is packed. In poorer districts, people leave it to as late as possible to turn up for The Reapings. But in our District, if you don't get there at least two hours early, your frowned upon. It's the same in 1 and 4. But apart from that, we're unique.

We decide to group up on our own. I'm in with the aged sixteen females - there's about fifty of us all in all. Over in the boys eighteens I can see Cato, standing a still as a statue amongst the raving hooligans surrounding him, a cocky look spread across his face. He catches me looking and I tear my gaze away.

My excitement is overwhelming now, but it's not the only emotion I feel coursing through my body. There's hints of other, stranger feelings my body cannot properly register. It's not fear, that's an emotion for the weak and stupid, people from Districts like 8 and 12 feel fear. It's more like... anticipation.

The sound of a clock striking pulls me out of my thoughts and tunrs my attention to the stage. Right on cue, Mayor Kinyon burst through the doors of the Justice Centre. Cheers erupted as he appeared, arms outstretched, accepting the attention willingly. Everyone in District 2 was always rowdy on Reaping Day.

He recites the traditional speech as everybody pretends to listen. Really, we're all just itching for the main event to begin. We don't have to wait long.

In less than fifteen minutes, the two huge reapings bowls are brought out. The whole crowd erupts into cheers and shouts, screaming and trying to get closer to the stage. You'd think they were giving away millions.

Our district escort, Tatana, looks as ridiculous as usual. Personally, I have my quells about whether the people from the Capitol are even fifty percent sane. Whoever thinks it is an excellent idea to die ones skin lime green and have hair that is bright yellow, and obviously a wig, so that they look like a pineapple in reverse, is an idiot in my book. He nails match her hair in colour, and are long and pointed, more like the claws of an animal. Her teeth are not polished white (like so many from her city) but crystal, actual crystal stone, with little diamonds embedded in. Her whole body is covered by two huge tattoos, that start at her eyebrows, curve round to her hair line and then descend, eventually poking out from underneath her hideously designed mustard coloured dress before disappearing again into her towering high heels. How the hell does she think she looks good?

She seems pleased. She's one of the lucky escorts. She gets to come to a district that appreciates the Games, enjoys them even, welcomes them into their society with open arms. Others aren't so lucky. An escort was killed a few years back in another district. I think it was eleven. Almost the whole square was wiped clean. Like it matters. Elevens breed like rats.

She waits for the applause to die down before she speaks. "District 2! It is my extreme pleasure to welcome you all to the 74th Hunger Games!" Everybody is set off again. This is why it can take up to five hours to reap the Career districts. It's nearly impossible to get everyone to shut up.

A group of boys nearby start chanting. I think it's the same boys from the fight. "District 2! District 2!" A few other copy them, including myself, and soon the whole square is showing their mad patriotism. Tantata flashes us a smile, her teeth literally splitting the light into it's spectrum as it bounces of them. She tries shush us through her blown up lips, her strange cat-like eyes getting fed-up as we just get even louder. She decides to just begin.

"Ladies first." she shouts, and suddenly everyone is silent. The wait is intense as she fumbles through the names. Her yellow claws scrape against the edge of the bowl, mixing up the papers as she goes. Every eligible girl in the district is holding her breath at this moment. I could bite my nails in anxiety, but I won't. It's a dirty habit.

Suddenly, as if made to do so by some outside force, the escort's fingers clamp shut on a piece of paper. Nobody moves, nobody speaks. Nobody even breathes.

The second it takes Tatana to unfold the paper is the longest second of my life. Much longer than the other Game Reaping's. It's as if I know. I know what's going to happen. Realisation hits me just before the words do.

"And the female district 2 tribute for the 74th Annual Hunger Games is... CLOVE CARIONE!"

~*~ R&R ~*~


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! We sadly do not own the hunger games! Please r&r! Give us your feed back!

~w&c

Clove Carione.

Clove Carione.

The words whisper playfully at me, bantering with my paralized body and frozen mind.

Clove Carione.

The name sounds familiar.

Clove Carione.

I hope the person isn't happy that they got reaped.

Clove Carione.

Beacause I plan to volunteer this year.

People glanceat me with a mixture of imapatiance and annoyance .It's like they're wating for something...

Clove Carione.

Why aren't they asking for volunteers yet ? Clove Carione obviously doesn't want her spot. She must be a sniveling, cowardly fool to not show her self.

CloveCarione.

CloveCarione...

CLOVECARIONE!

A sharp sudden rush of energy flushes through my body, working throught the slushy blood.

Clove Carione is me.

I just got reaped.

My body lundges forward but my mind is left behind for a second.I feel the uneasy glare of jealous eyes on the back of my head as I make my way through the crowd,but then a sudden surge of energy is vibrating through me, but the surge of energy that is pulsating through my veins is enough to keep me moving swiftly towards the stage.

I just got reaped.

It's as easy to say as I can scream it

I just got reaped.

Imutter the words continuesly under my heavy breath. I can see cameras follow my every move as a strut confidently, even though my mind is in a daze. I don't even bother to mask my emotions.  
>My grin strechsbroadly across my face as I climb the smoothed out steps. I barely noticethe crowd looming below me. All I can notice is the shiny cameras blinking back at me, reflecting my image back to my own eye. I can see myself from Panem's point of view.<p>

A smallish girl, with long, tousled, auburn brown hair and strikingly brightgreen eyes. Not too ugly or too pretty, in her tight, aprepro dress. But her beaming smile shines with the pride and joy the Capitol pumps into the career districts. She makes the poorer districts sick, looking so happy to walk to her doom, but she doesn't see it. And neither does the rest of district two. 

"Oooh! What a fine femaletribute we have here!" Tatana screechs into the air, starting off a chorus of mad cheering.

"Are there any volunters?" she exclaims, streaks of light concaving into her mouth, creating a thick halo.

one would dare take my pride and joy. I have been waiting for fouryears for this day!For four years I have trained tirelessly day and night, praying for the day I could make my fame in the arena. For four yearsI have dreamt for it, begged for it,fought for it. And no one is going to rip it away from me now.

I turned and faced the crowd.

I saw Hone's plump face peer back at me with a certain anger and sadness that is nearly impossible to describe. He looks like a kicked puppy that is hurt, yet hungry for revenge. I know for a fact that if I were a boy he would have volunteered, for my protection. It worries me to even think about that. I,at least,have a chance of winning.

My eyes pry from his disapproving expression to my mother's, with her dark molassas eyes staring down mine with a leash of disaproval. I focused on her full lips, so similar to mine, except hers are twicthing downward in case she has a moment to frown. She's not going to have a moment. EVER. I'll win, and her lips will be enternaly happy.

This brings me to my father. His face was the exact oposite of my mother's and Hone's. It was smiling, bright, cheerfull, and most of all, proud. And I know then I must win. I need to bring honor to him. I need to bring honor to my district.

My eyes carefully swept the girl section. Each had the same, starlted vacant look that made their well worked up tan glow slightly red. Their eyes all have the same daring, yet wounded,look.

Too bad.

It's my year.

I sneak a short peek at the boys section, wanting to see their reaction. Ignoring the pleading stairs of my brother's friends, my eyes instantely found Cato.

He stood alone, his smirk betraying the earlier quarrel.His blue eyes are blazing with a certain keeness that makes me want to squeal with joy or hide with fright.

I left his gaze, too early for me, but too late for the looking sponsors. 

Tatana's voice forces me to pay attention once again. "No one? No? None?Oh well,look at your tribute this year! She looks like a fighter that one!" Her shrill voice cuts my ears whilst she waves her sickly green arms all over the place.

I politely smile.

Sheturnsaround, her mustard colored suit (or whatever the ugly garment is) swaying in the small breeze.

"And now for the boys!" She sticks her finger into the huge glass bowl.

She twirled her finger, as if trying to make up a small dance skit. If only her music was the sound of the broken chirping of a bird being tortured and killed with a knife. That would seem nice and seemingly fitting.

She moved her hand in a scuttling motion, her claws almost scraping the bottom of this deep, deep bowl.

Then she instantely snatchsa small piece of paper so fast, there's a sharp crack in her microphone.

"Are you ready District 2?" The audience answers with yet another loud roar.

"Well I certainly am!" The paper was bending her ever moving fingers. 

"And the boy tribute is..." The whole entire world pauses for a moment. Not Hone, just not Hone...

"Diron Glenx!"

Diron.. Diron... that name did ding a rather loud bell. Who is it?

My mind recalls Diron being the boy Cato beat up today. I'd be glad to kill him in the arena. Do Cato a favour. It'd be nice to finally be equal with him, after all these years.

Diron tries to limp over into the small clearing that has formed to allow him to hobble over to my side. Too bad a monstrous force grabs onto his loose shirt and lunges in front of him. That can only be one person.

Cato.

And he's about to rob Diron of the greast honor that can be bestowed in District 2.

The honor of competing.

I can barely make out the faint scream of Cato's voice when my world screeches to and abrupt halt. 

" I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey! whiphandgirl and chibipanda here! Hope you like our new chapter! And be sure to check out my hunger games story! On with it!

He volunteered...

Of course he volunteered Clove! Snap out of it! It was obvious, he's eighteen, it's his last chance, you knew this would happen!

Why am I so shocked?

People chant his name while he struts up to the stage grinning. Everybody knows him, knows how brutal he is, knows how vicious he is. Knows he's going to win. So where does that leave me in the midst of the games?

My face is as hard as stone as he comes to stand next to me. I notice that he won't look me in the eye either, he just keeps his gaze locked on the eager audience, who are all still screaming for him. Even when Tatana asks us to shake hands, we both make sure that we don't catch a glance of each other. His hands feels sweaty in my palm, and shakes a little aswell. He rips it away before I can even begin to think if he is, under all that hype, actually nervous.

After a few more minutes of playing it up to the crowd (as the tributes always do in our district) myself and Cato are both ushered away by the Peacekeepers. One of the men, a huge, hulking man with the body mass of an ox, places a hand on Cato's back, slapping it hard, almost knocking the wind out. Cato beamed at the man, and his eyes shone with respect. The similarties between them are striking. It must be his father.

The man leads Cato into a room, following him in and closing the door behind him.

"Come on sunshine, in you go!" One of the other Peacekeepers grabs me by the collar and throws me into a newly opened door. Sitting me down, he lingers in the doorway, as if he's expecting me to run. I suppose tributes have tried that before.

"You're family are coming in seperately." he says, in a offical, monotone, emotionless voice. "This one wanted to see you alone." I can hazard a guess at who 'this one' is.

Hone bursts through the door, shoving hastily past the Peacekeeper. Usually, when people like my brother have just passed their final reaping, their faces are filled with elation and content as they slowly realise that they personally will never have to go through the horror and honor of knowing that their name is just one lucky snag away from being pulled from that huge glass ball. But Hone's face is filled with nothing but fear.

Within seconds I am pulled into his chest as he sobs so strongly that he actually manages to dampen my hair. I pause for a second before I put my hand n his thick curls, patting them softly. I'm not sure if it's comforting, I'm no good with anything setemental, but he does seem to calm down a bit.

"Oh Clove." he whispers, his voice mortified.

"Oh Clove, oh Clove, oh Clove." He doesn't seem to be able to think of anything else to say. Just 'Oh Clove' over and over again, like a broken record. I'd let him stay there alone, but we only have a certian amount of time and I don't want to end up drowning in an ocean of tears so I push him away. But i'm not talking about my tears, i'm talking about his.

He doesn't let go of me complelty but pulls himself back enough so he can look me straight in the face. Our eyes meet, the only features on our whole body that even show that we are somehow siblings. But at the moment, his are teary and dull while mine are as vibrant as ever. He bites his lip, as if he's trying to contain himself from saying something important.

"What?" I ask. Then he blows.

"What!" He cries. "What! What do you think! You're going to the Games!"

"So?" I say, crossing my arms. My cocky voice doesn't reflect how I feel on the inside.

"So! You're going to die!" I totally pull myself out of his embrace, slowly waking away to end up over the other side of the room. He thinks I'm going to die?

Honestly?

And after all this training?

"You don't think I can win?" I ask, slightly hurt by his words. I thought he'd at least support me...

"No!" he cries, forgetting in his anger and the fact he is deeply offending me. "No, you can't! Have you seen the monster you're going in with? And if he's supposed to be your ally, I don't even want to see your enemies! He'll kill you Clove, cut you up in your sleep, slice-and-dice! Leave you to get murdered, offer you up as sacrifice so he can go on with his stupid reckless life!"

I can't believe it. He doesn't think I can do it. He doesn't think I can win. After all the hours I've spent on the Games. My whole life has revolved around them, watching them, training for them, researching them, every hour I have spare in my life has been dedicated to this brutal competition. And he doubts me. It's bad enough I doubt myself.

No! No, I don't doubt myself! I can't doubt myself! Doubt is weakness, a weakness I can't afford. I won't doubt myself. Not anymore. Hone's disbelief has made me realise something. If I don't beleive in me, no one will. So I've got to hold my head high, no matter what I feel inside.

"Well if that's what you think Hone, you better just leave." I say stiffly. His face falls, as it dawns on him what he's done.

"No, Clove, I.." he starts, but before I even get chance to ask him to leave again, a Peacekeeper forces his way through the door.

"Time's up." he says, with that same, emotionless voice.

"No!" Hone shrieks, running at me, trying to force me into another hug. I block him with my own arms, shoving him backwards into the peacekeeper.

"That's two people who've told you to leave. Go!" His face looks as if I've just slapped him with a wet towel. His only sister, refusing him as she prepares to go to her glory. He screams even more as the Peacekeepers drag him away. He kicks and cries and wailes for them to let him go instead, but they just keep dragging him out. They've heard it all before. It doesn't faze them as much as it seems.

He keeps up the fght until they're in the doorframe. Then, he sees that it's futile. Just before the door swings shut on him, he bellows at the top of his voice: "Clove! Clove, please come home! Or win! Or anything! Just come back alive! Your my sister, I love you!" And then he's gone, dissapeared behind the thick wood. I listen as his cries get more and more distant and the door of the Justice Building slams shut. Gone.

The meeting with my parents is less eventful. My dad just rants about how proud he is of his little girl and how I'm going to bring so much honor to my district and my family. As he paces around the room, throwing his arms around like a madman, already planning on how to spend my victor's money, my mother sits in the corner, her dark eyes downcast, staring at a loose thread in the rug.

I want to comfort her, but then I remember my promise to myself. I've got to be stone, I can't feel bad! If I feel bad, how am I going to win the games? So I just stand and watch her silently.

Once our two minutes are up, my mother walks quietly to me, and places her thin wiry ring in my hand. It's beautiful. As a child I have always marveled its simple beauty of it just having a silver band with small dimonds encrusted itno it. My father said it's straight from 1 itself. She still marched ahead, her head bowed solemly, not even looking back. Father gives me pat on the back, his face still high off my reaping.

"Good luck, Little Clover." I get a pang of nostalga as my ears remeber the nickname I have not heard in so long. Not since I was five, and my father would tuck me up in bed and kiss me lightly on the forehead, whispering soft words of comfort to me. Not since life stripped all my inncoence away the second I was handed that dainty knife on the morning of my sixth birthday.

Cato comes out of his room only a few seconds after me. I see a woman behind him that I can only presume is his mother. She is a tall, scar riddled lady, with a curvy body, laced with thin muscle. She has shoulder length, choppy blonde hair and her sapphire eyes are hollow and empty.

I remember her. She won the Games when she was only twelve years old, she allied with nearly everyone in the arena, only to slit their throats in their sleep. She was evil and manipulative, but most of all, she had no heart. It came down to her and her brother. He was huge, brutish, and had made as many kills as his baby sister. But when it came to the end, he was more than willing to die for her. So she stabbed him in the gut, in coldblood. And instead of telling him she loved him, she told him he was weak, unworthy, a disgrace.

Next to the victor, a small girl stands. She too has fair hair and blue eyes, and, just like his Peacekeeper father, she is so similar to Cato that if it weren't for the obvious age difference I'd have said they were twins. Her face is all pink and puffy; like she has been crying. She launches herself at Cato's leg, her tiny arms barely managing to twist around his massive, bulding thighs.

Her mother begins to scold her, dragging her off Cato's leg by her collar, but she has just enough time to slip the silver charm braclet she was wearing on her wrist off and pass it on to Cato. He graps it in his hand, and it's definatly to small for him to wear, but have no doubt that, somehow, he will make sure this is his token.

As his family leave, Cato and I manage to do the one thing we've been trying avoid. Looking directly at each other. It only for a split seoncd that we catch eyes, and we exchange no words, but the connection sends sparks through my body. His eyes look so different to how expected them to be, they are not proud nor arrogant nor cocky. If anything, they are passionate, but _worried_.

Before we can say or do anything, Tatana comes up behind us, grabbing us both by the hands. "All done?" she trills. When neither of us asnwer, she takes it as a a yes. "Good, time to go guys!" She practically skipping as she hurries us out of the Justice Building, chattering rapidly away. It's a short walk to the train station, however it's made longer by the hoards of screaming villagers. Why won't they just go home and leave?

When we reach the platform, Tatana ushers us onto the train, her heels tapping annoyingly behind us. "I suggest you take in the scenery my darlings." she drawls. "This train really is exquisite!"

She's right.

_"And these are your rooms!" Tatana chirps while waving her arms around the hallway. The train so far has been amazing, luxorius even. As soon as she pushed us through the door there was and array of food. Everything from beef in a thick hearty sauce to steamed vegtibles to fluffy soufle's to a thick paste made from goat cheese._

_ Cato and I didn't even want to eat the food as soon as we saw it. Of course we are the better fed, more pampered district of Panem but seeing so much food in one place is exhilerating._

_ "Don't just stand there sillys! Eat something! The other districts aren't allowed to each desserts.. you are!" Tatana just drawled in her shrill voice._

_ "But not too much! Don't want to ruin your body for the games!" Me and Cato slowly inched __our hands away from the small pies and grabbed something heathier. I settled on a peeled carrot while Cato grabbed a large apple._

_ When Tatana turned Cato swiftly snuck a few pies into his mouth. Becoming soft would actually help him look less intimidating. Whereas for me, it wouldn't help at all. My meltabolisim is too fast for any kind of sugar to gain weight on me. Sometimes being small sucks._

_ The room that we came was short, but wide. It had a plasterd wall with painting bolted to the wall._

_ I see we are in for a bumpy ride._

_ The rest didn't matter much. Of course it might have been beautiul but hot pink and deep yellows hurt your eyes after a while. Not to mention the neon greens._

_ " Okay! Here they are! Tatana dragged us into the end of a long hallway._

_ In the back there were two rooms identically across eachother._

_ One said A103._

_ The other one said A104._

_ "It's really your choise!" Tatanna blurted._

_ "I'll take A104" I mumbled, not wanting to meet Cato's demanding eyes._

_ "Splendid Clove! Oh i'm so happy I got your name right! We-" I rushed into the room and slammed my door shut._

_ All I heard is her sudden slash of anger "MANNERS! Your from district 2 for Panem's sake!"_

_ I heard Cato chuckle as he himself walked out on Tatana._

_ She screamed and tapped her foot impatienly._

_ "Fine! For that you guys aren't getting any supper!"_

_ I flopped down on the large, plush bed and just closed my eyes for a split second. This seems, so sureel, so... unrealistic. I would have voulentered next year but, I just can not get over the fact that it was my piece of luck that I got reaped. Voulenteering is wonderful, getting reaped is a whole new ballpark._

_ I just want a few minutes to myself, to ready myself._

_ I heard a sharp rapping on my door._

_ Not her again! I don't want to deal with her outragouness herself!_

_ I realeased a long, weary, sigh and turned oer to my side. My ring still secure on my finger._

_ "Who is it!" I filled with all the spite I could muster to send the person away. You know District __2 is not that far away from the capitol! I need to prepare myself._

_ They knocked again._

_ "I SAID who is it!" I rather screemed then yelled._

_ "It's me, Cato"_

_ Oh no. It's Cato. I haven't talked to him face to face, or even alone._

_ I bluntly replyed "Come in."_

_ Cato basically burst through the small door and charged to sit down on my bed. I didn't have to move to make space. This is akward... How should I start the conversation. Beacause all Cato wants to do here is sit here and furrow his brows in consentration, his mother's necklace in his grasp._

_ "Is that your token?" I finally ask after a minute of silence._

_ Cato states "Token's are for the weak, Here you have it, it's too small on me, it's fit you alright."_

_ Cato throws the braclet right at me. If it weren't for my years of knife practice I would have let it fall, but neverless, my muscles snag it quickly and put it down on the bed._

_ "So I hear you can throw a knife pretty good" Cato continues, his old ruggish charm easing back._

_ "Yea, I've been training for sometime, I hear you can beat every guy at anything really." I finally have the courage to look him in the eye. I notice he was looking at me the whole entire time._

_ " That's true." Cato grinns, drowning in pride._

_ "How many bloodbathians you'll think we'll get?" I state, alsmost hysterical. I know I'll get a few, Cato will wipe half of the tributes out in the first day._

_ "It's more like how many people will be left after we storm throught the competion."_

_ "True" I add._

_ Tatana's voice comes back to haunt us._

_ "Children! We're at the capitol! Come out! Meet people! Come on! Your District 2!" Tatana shrieks into the hallway, and edge of cold-ness creeps into her voice._

_ "I guess we have to go get sponsers now!" I cry cheerfully. I walk out to leave Cato with his huge body still siting on my bed._

_ I quickly scramble to the largest window and stair out into the capitol, It's beauty doesn't amaze me. The butterflies that started to sprout in my stomach when I was talking to Cato amaze me. And the fact that the bracelt is now clampsed shut in my palm._

"I want you two to meet your mentors for this years Hunger Games. I'm sure you two both already know all about them!" Tatana gives us both a quick shove before bolting the door behind her. It's obvious whoever is in here has her terrifed beacause she didn't even scold me this morning for last night's behaveior.

"Hello." The first thing I see when I turn around is a set of sharp golden fangs.

Without thinking, I lunge for the nearest knife, and throw it in the direction of the voice. The woman who it belongs to barely ducks out of the way before it strikes the wall directly behind where her head was.

"That." she states. "Was uncalled for."

I recognise her instantly now. Enobaria. Terrifying, bloodthirsty, and questonably insane, she won the 62nd Games by ripping out the throats of her competition... literally. Not like I'd admit it, but even being in the same room as her gave me the chills. But at least I know she's not unkillable.

"Sorry." I say, trying to come across sharp and spiteful, but even I notice the crack in my voice as the word comes out. She grins. And it's not a kind grin, it's one of those cold, calculated grins that seem to sing: 'I'm going to make you trust me, but fucking destory you if I get half the chance'. The kind of grin that I usually only saw in the mirror at home.

The man next to her was no comfort. Brutus. He really couldn't have a more fitting name. He was huge and masculine, with barbaric features. It seemed like his parents spun his face out of coal, his features were rough edged and bulky, but nerveless he looked handsome.

"Huh. Apologising is for the weak. What's your name, little girl?" Usually, I detest being called little, but just the tone of Brutus' voice is enough to stop me form arguing with him.

"Clove. Clove Carione."

"Carione. Doesn't ring a bell."

"Does it need to?" I glare at him.

I know what he means. He means my family has never won the Games. I'm not in the bloodline, which, as far as Brutus is concerned, means I don't have a chance.

The prepartion room looks like a hospital. Not the rundown, ugly ones they have in they Districts, that are filled with homemade medicines and herbal remidies, usually set up in someones house, but the clean and clinical ones of the Capitol that I've seen on the televsion.

The room is made up of pristine whites and duck-egg blues, with not a spec of dirt in sight. Their are twenty four areas, each curtained off from one another. The ones closest to the door are labbelled '1', then beside them, '2' and so on until '12', which I can just see, right at the end of the room.

We're the first ones here, other than District One, they're both already in their areas, but they can't have been here long, becasue the curtains have not been drawn yet. The girl, I notice, is, in a word, gorgeous.

Her hair is long, blonde and flowing, the curls cascade down her back and frame her perfect heart shaped face. Her eyes are a beautiful pale green, the complete opposite shade to my own emerald orbs. The thick eyelashes that surrond them tickle her high cheekbones as she blinks and winces as the wax strips rip the hair out of their folicules. Her pink lips part in a small whimper as they tear off another.

The boy is lean and lanky. Their is no doubt that he posses muscle, but it is nowhere near as prominent as Cato's or Brutus'. His light hazel eyes are trained on a point somewhere in the distance, his perfect white teeth clamped together as he tries not to scream. He's having the same treatment as the girl, they're both being plucked like turkeys.

Cato grimaces wth malice in his ocean blue eyes. I can tell by his face that he's not going to let that happen to him. Ever.

Tatana leads us past the District One preperations swiftly, pushing me forward with her hand when she realises I've stopped. "Go on, we haven't got all day silly!" she chimes, with a hint of impaitence and distaste.

I look back and see both sets of curtains close. Maybe they always leave District Ones open until the others arrive?

We meet Cato's team first. They're set up next to the boy from 1, who I can now here yelping as they rip the hair from a more sensitive part of his body. Cato frowns even harder. I wouldn't want to be the person who's got to take those wax strips anywhere near him. Through the drawn curtains a head appears, lilac in colour with a wide array of neon blue make-up, with the hair to match. She smiles, before steeping out completly.

"Oh, is this him?" She asks, exaiming Cato's body. "Oh, he's a fine specimen isn't he. Strong, hadsome, rugged, oh yes, we'll go far with you." She looks over him like he's a peice of meat and she's debating just how to cook him.

"Who'd the girl with this year?" She asks Tatana, regarding me as if I'm not even in the room.

"Team A7513E9." The letters and numbers fall of Tatana tounge so quickly I miss most of them, but the reaction of Cato's prep leader is enough to make me worry.

"RLP?" she asks. Tatana nods. The next thing I here is a shriek of laughter.

"Oh god! I haven't worked with them for a _long_ time! I thought they were doing District One?"

"No, he fell out with the stylist. He wanted more shiny things, and she wouldn't let him. So he threw a diva fit and left, mid prep. They ended up going out with no make-up on or anything! They looked terribble"

I vaguely remember that from last year. The usually breath-taking District One had had some complications with their preperation, and they had to get on thier chariots wth only the outfits their stylist had designed, with nothing to compliment it. Needless to say, they ended up with little to no sponsors. The girl died of starvation after she refused to join the Careers and they boy wasted away after a muttation attacked which could have been cured if he'd have had the support.

District Four won that year. Sneaky little bastard drowned both our tributes when she took them out fishing. Didn't do her much good, the last I heard of her she was under constant watch so she didn't kill herself. Four seems to have a thing with mentally unstable victors. Espeically the girls. I think back a few more years, what was her name? Amy, Anita, Annabelle? Something alond those lines. She went mental after she saw her district partners head get cut off. Only won because the damn broke and she, unlike the other tributes, could swim. It's a game of luck as well as skill. The odds really do have to be in your favour.

Yet again, Tatana's horrid voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I relaise we've left Cato and his team, and we are now outside another set of curtains. Tatana rips them open, gving me a light push in. I let out a quick snarl. I'm fed up with being shoved around today. Tatana either doesn't hear me, or doesn't take any notice.

"Ok Clove darling, this is your preperartion team." Two woman are busy rummaging around the curtained off area, sorting out everything they are going to need to make me look pretty. Or the Capitol's version of pretty. "This is Prishchella, Ladiya and... ladies, where's Rox?"

One of the woman turns around and I'm suddenly faced with the widest array of colours I've ever seen. Tatana may have been strange, but atleast she has some kind of scheme going on with all her green and yellow. This woman is just totally mis-matched.

Her skin is bright orange, and it looks like she's had been left out in the sun for too long. Her eyes are neon purple, and had obviously been designed to make her pupils look like tiny golden stars. Her hair is hot pink and cut short, shaved on one side with a leopard print pattern dyed in. The outfit she is wearing has no words to describe it, it's simply to blindingly colourful and complicated to try and explain. I'm just gald she's only my prep, not my stylist.

The other woman, in a ridiclous kind of way, is rather pretty. Her skin is a light, sky blue, and compared to the others in the Capitol, it looks almost natural. Her eyelashes are covered by long black feathers with silver flecks in, that complement her grey eyes well. Her lipstick is silver and sparkly, matching her short, silver dress and shoes. Her platinum blonde hair is curled in big loops down to her shoulders.

"Oh, him! He's always late, don't worry!" flusters the orange woman. Her accent is worse than Tatana's. She takes me by the shoulders and forces me down onto something that resembles a bed.

"Yeah, he'll be her real soon, ok?" The other girls accent is less drilling. She sounds quite posh, and I can't help but wonder if she's had lessons in elecution.

Tatana grins. "Oh, that's great, I haven't seen him in so long! I'll just wait here until he comes." No sooner have the words left my escorts mouth when a almighty crash sounds through the building. The three woman gasp as the sound of a man shouting rips through the air.

Tatana looks horrifed. Another chorus of yells follow, and then a huge snap, followed by a woman screaming in terror. My escort looks torn between staying with me, and going to investigate the noise.

"Just leave her with us Tatana, we'll fix her up real good." encourages the blue girl.

"That's right, you won't even be able to recognise her after we're done with her." That doesn't comfort me and I scan the room for anything sharp that they could use to surgically alter me. I won't hesitate to kill them in cold-blood if they try anything funny.

"Thank-you ladies." Tatana says beaming. "I'll go and see what's going on..." And with that she disappears again.

I sit for a few minutes whilst the girls gossip. I learn that the more annoying of the two is Ladiya, whilst the blue girl is Prishchella. The more I listen, the more I learn about my head prep, Rox.

"I do hope he's still got that skin!" says Ladiya. "I dyed my hair especailly for him!"

"I know, that's why I went blue this year, that teal leopard print unitard he wears is to die for!" I'm not sure why they're fussing so much. Nobody ever even pays attention to the prep team. If anything, it's the stylist they care about. I think about what mine will be like. If this is what I have to deal with beforehand, I can't bear to think about who's in charge of them.

Suddenly, Tatana forces her way back through the curtains. Brutus and Enobaria are beside her and all three of them seem to be struggling with some kind of force. Then, without warning, Cato is thrown into the area, crashing into the table that held all the sets of false nails Ladiya and Prishchella were debating on putting on me. The nails fly every where but I'm more entertained on why Cato is thrashing all over the place. I'm glad the butterflies stopped in my stomach.

Brutus is over to him in seconds, pinning him against the wall, a stain of pure fury splashed across his features. "Look here boy, this is not the time to be starting arguments! If you want to brawl, do it with the other tributes, _not _your prep team!" His voice is low and threatning, but Cato seems unfazed. He just grunts and stares Brutus down. It's hard to see who would win in that fight.

"They shouldn't have tried to touch me." he growls. This makes Brutus even more mad. He slams Cato further up the wall.

"It's their job to touch you boy, it's what they're payed for!" But Cato isn't giving up just yet. This is like trying to out out fire with gasoline. Counterproductive and dangerous for everyone involved.

"Well, I don't apperciate them rubbing they're filthy hands all over my..."

"They could be shoving their filthy hands down yours trousers and pulling the hairs out one by one for all I care boy! They're her to help you make an impression! Without them, you're just the kid from District Two! Distirct advantage can only take you so far boy!" I start to cark up which earns a pleading glare from Cato and a disaproving stare from Tatana which says "Your next" I just sht up after that.

Tatana quickly trots over, trying to shove a hand between the two huge men. "Now now gentlemen, no harm done!" she squels, an octave to high. It's obvious she's terrified. "I'll just go and apolgise to Cato's prep team! Until them he can stay here with Clove! You don't mind do you ladies?"

Tatana is begging with her eyes at Ladiya and Prishchella, who are pressed against the wall, to scared to even blink. It's Ladiya that comes around first.

"No, no! Of course not! W-we'll explain to Rox and he can help us out! Right Prish." Prishchella nods shakily.

"R-right."

Enobaria struts up to Brutus, grabbing him by the neck. "Come on, let's leave. We've got sponsors to talk to, this year looks promising"

It seemed Enobaria was putting in an awful lot of effort. Sponsors weren't usually gained until atleast after the Chariot's. She must be desperate for a winner the year. Well, she going to get one. But i'm not sure it's me.

Brutus gives Cato one last glare before letting Enobaria lead him out. Tatana follows them, but about ten paces behind. She's still terrified of them, and after that show I can't say blame her.

Ladiya offers Cato a seat on another bed-like object annd he takes it. Prichshella asks f he'd like to lie down and there's a moment when everyone in the room thinks she's going to get hit for her trouble, but the Cato flops down onto the pillow and starts drifting off into sleep. He looks peacefull.

The very first thing I hear is a voice.

It's neither a man's or a woman's. It sounds like a drunk man trying to impersonate a squirrl that's dancing with a rock.

It's out of this world.

"Oh My God! I'm sosososososo sorry I'm late guys! I just HAD to change my shoes! I mean like urgh! There was this nasty creature that totally just pooped on my shoe! It looked like it was from twelve or something! Urgh! It's was atrotiocus!" The voice contiuned.

Then I saw a flash of how pink and teal with black. When he came into view. You knew he was there. The voice continude babbling as I took in him.

He was a male, you can tell just by his features. But what you see is his feminine movements. There so fluid, more fluid then mine.

"And like.." His skin is a hot pink all over, a rash too stunning for my mind.

He stopeped in his tracks.

"Is this what were working with!" He screamed with joy. I couldn't help but notice his tight, teal leapord printed unitard.

"And before I continue with my story or even look to closely at this lady!"

The man stops and stare's at Cato's legs.

"THAT. IS . NASTY.! When is the last time this boy shaved! Urgh THAT IS UNSANITARY!" The man starts to poke at Cato. I want to tell him to stop but it's too entertaning. After a while Cato turns around and looks at the man. All you see it Cato jumping 6 inches in the air and running out of the place.

I'm too mesmerized with the man to even speak up.

"And I was saying... "

The man started to wash his hands over by the sink in sharp, circular motions.

"It was so nasty! It looked like it was from twelve!" The man turns around looks out into the hall where you can see the girl from 12 stare at us with a fire that looks pitiful next to the sinserity of this man.

He whispers " At least she brushes her hair!" The two girls start laughing and I just keep my eyes open. He is one of the most erriely beautifull people I've ever met.

The man spinns around to me.

"Hi baby! I'm Rox!"

My mouth feels dry from non-realeased laughter.

"I-I'm Clove."

"Good to meet you Clove! Darling! We're going to make you look AH-MAH-ZING! Don't you worry!"

"Clover Carione."

"Clove." I hiss. The woman smiles.

"My mistake. Clove is much nicer anyway. It's gives you a more girly feel, it's not as harsh." I grimace.

"Then maybe it should be Clover." She smiles again.

"But it's not." she states. "Harpera Kolson. District Two's stylist for seven years now. It's nice to have someone petite to work with after all these years. I'm used to woman with great, hulking bodies from District Two. I nearly gave up, but when heard Rox's team was coming back over, I couldn't leave. I've worked with him and Ladiya before, back when they had Cuban as a leader. When he quit, Rox took Ladiya and his new girl over to 1, he liked the sparkles. Wasn't to fond of Quata though..."

I just about to hiss at how I don't want to hear anymore about my prep team, when she steals the line from my lips.

"But we're not here to talk about that! We're here to talk about you! Such a beautiful little figure, gives me so much more to work with."

"So what, since I'm petite am I going out in some kind of skimpy outift?" I dread to think what Harpera has planned. I think of District 12, coming out naked covered only in black soot. Shivers burst involuntarly through me.

"No." I realese a breath I didn't realise I was holding. "Petite or not, you're from Distrcit Two! You're fearless, brave, terrifying! Besides, if we put you in a skimpy outfit, that'd mean we'd have to do the same with your distrct partner. And my counterpart values her life too much for that."

It's almost laughable, thinking about Cato wearing some kind of revelaing outfit. I try to imagine him in Rox's unitard, but the image is so visually disturbing I send it straight back to the depths of my mind.

"So what are we wearing?" I ask. Nearly every fibre of my being just wants to see the damn outfit and get it over with, however I can't escape the little tingle of excitment that fights to be felt.

"Well, myself and Jerique were discussing this. What makes Distirct 2 District 2? Why is that so many times, you are the winners of the Games? Why is t that when the other children fail, you come back with a vengance so storng and passionate that it sweeps the competition away?" During her speech, Harpera stalks over to a huge hanging rail. A spotless white sheet hangs off it, and inside, I know, is my outfit. She takes the sheet off the rail, and I expect her to drape it over her arm to carry it over.

Instead, she throws it over her shoulder, grunting like it's the heavist thing in the world. She signlas for me to close my eyes and I relecutantly oblige. In mere seconds a weight so harsh comes down on my body that it almost makes me fall to the ground. After a few mintues of re-postioning from Harpera, I hear her step back.

"It's becasue District Two are warriors." I take that as the cue to open my eyes.

I suddenly see why everything was so heavy. I'm dressed in solid gold from head-to-toe, the ligth hits me and makes me shimer and shine like I'm something that's been shippe din directly from District One. It's a simple outfit, it's basically an armour set from a time long, long ago. Back when the worlds countires were at war, when people were always trying to take one anothers land and riches. Nowdays, countires have nothing to do with eachother. I couldn't even tell you what the nearest counrty to Panem was.

I think the place it is form is called something like Lome. Jome? Kome? It doens't matter, it's irrelevant. What matters is that, in this outfit, with it's smooth upper body and flaring out skirt, golden boots and winged crown I look indestructable. But not only that. I look beautiful.

The gold compliments my dark hair perfectly, and Rox has done such an amazing job with my make-up that every feature on my face stands out. My eyes look dark and dangerous and my lips are full and sparkling. My cheekbones appear higher than usual and even my eyebrows look extremley pretty. I think of the distirct one girl we saw when we came in. Even she plaes in comparision to me at this moment in time. I'm stunning.

"So?" asks Harpera. I can't take my eyes off the mirror.

"It's perfect." I hear a voice echo through the halls as footsteps clang by. The sound of metal rubbing against metal can only mean one person. The door fles open, revealling a skinny, pastel pink woman, who I note as being Cato's stylist, Jerique.

"Here he is, your Knight in Shining Armour, ready to board his Chariot with his beauitful Warrior Princess." As he steps through the door, the illusion of me beng the most gorgeous thing on the planet shatters.

~ sorry I was such a glimmerho in it xD I hoped ya liked rox... and yes... I was listening to Im sexy and I know it while writing that part xD ~ whiphandgirl


	4. Chapter 4

_** Back again with another chapter :) ~ w&c**_

A large blinding light shines into my eyes as our chariot arrived into the stadium. I feel the pulse of a roar emanate from a large crowd but I couldn't see. The dazzling lights that shine from above reflect on my gold armor, all the way up to my winged cap to my gladiator styled sandals.

A loud voice booms overhead as my eyes clear up.

"This years tributes from District 2, Clove Carione and Cato Fortis!"

Finally the blinding lights disappear from my vision as I get a glimpse of the crowd. There is a huge amount of people, an over populated amount of people, but they came to see me and Cato. They bang their boot heavy feet against the everlasting bleachers, screaming and pounding their fists with our names spilling out of their tongue's. It's only for us.

District 2 has always been a favorite. Every year they've gotten the most sponsors, or even the highest score, but this year is an outrage.

People I never knew started to shriek my name in all directions.

"CLOVE!" One side seems to pick up, while the other the other battled with Cato. Slowly it melted into a roaring 'Clato' that seemed to shake the earth itself.

Then, finally, Cato became more prominent and I started to worry. Why do they like him more?

Sneeking a peak at him, I soon realise why.

Cato looked like an unearthly god risen from the heavens with his fist beating the air. In the armor you can see every huge and bulging muscle that was a nice even bronze. His face looked handsome in the sort of way teenage girls squeal over some heroic guy. I can't say that he looks bad, but what can I do for myself.?All I am doing is standing around and staring off into space while my district partner, a huge massive beast, is fist pumping the air and navigating the crowd with ease. I have to do something memorable before they announce District 3.

Before I even have the guts to do what I am about to do and free myself from this frozen stance my eyes unwillingly found my face on the screens over head. I hope I look half as gorgeous as Cato does.

I gasp as I see my reflection. I don't look half as good as Cato does. I look two times as better. My mossy eyes sparkle under a tan smoky eye while my cheek bones look sky high. My natural coral colored lips are in an almost a nude shade, but they are too symmetrical to be mine. My perfectly arched eyebrows create a trail to my small nose and my light body fully clothed in a sparkling suit of armor. No one would dare look this beautiful as I do tonight. No girls or guys hair looks so enticing pulled back in a winged cap.

While Cato is playing up the crowd I have to think the opposite of him. I can't exactly not please the crowd, but what I can do is the opposite of every thing that people try to do in the games. Instead of being good, I can be bad.

I pull my lips back to create a snarl-like smile. The crowd moves it's attention from a clueless Cato to me. Finally.

I snarl again, but more slyly. Even though it is feels like I look ugly, I can't, my prep stylist tried too hard for that.

My lips settle on a secretive smirk. The crowd goes wild and Cato finally notices. I don't think he'll be too pleased to see me take all of his attention but hey, the games in my book have already started.

I growl now and the crowd screams on ecstasy. I'm unstoppable. Cato tries to steal my thunder by making animal-like sounds but he's not as nearly as graceful as me.

The crowd gets a few kicks out of that but I made a bigger bang. As we roll back into the building I gave a big smoochy sarcastic kiss to one of the main camera's. Panem goes wild and rouge for one last time then our chariot slowly decreases in speed and come's back into the Welcoming Center.

As we stroll in my body is still stiff from standing. I spot Enobaria and Brutus. Enobaria's fangs glint dully in comparison to our gold getup but all I see is her two dainty thumbs stuck up in a mocking style.

"Great job Clove, I thought you were about to sabotage President Snow himself" Enobaria drawled in her sarcastic voice.

I smiled, a bit more sadistically then planned and counteracted despite the butterflies from the Chariot ride, and being in the same room a her.

"Hey all I wanted is to make an impression."

"And you did, Kudos on that, girl, but look at what the boy did, I practically thought he was going to throw kisses at the audience." Brutus interrupted, his deep voice piercing through the room as District 5 or 6 strolled in.

This earned a worried glare as the other tributes scrambled away from us. District 2 is always feared, and If they just seen my vicious snarling, Cato's hulking body, and Enorbaria along with Brutus in the same room, I'm pretty sure I would want to scuttle away as far as I can too if I weren't myself.

"Hilarious Brutus" Cato remarked, his light eyes blazing from either spite or the thrill of this all.

"Get down boy, If your going to even fight with me, at least complain to my face" Brutus demanded as Cato started to climb down the chariot with the armor bouncing lightly. In fact, the armor _must_ be nothing for him. For me it's like a thick heavy skin that weighs me down like an anchor.

"Um.." I shuffle my foot. I can move it but slowly, and BAM! My foot hits the ground, the gold is so heavy I can't even lift my leg. I think most of it s because of the five-inch heel attrached to the bottom (Enobaria apparently told my stylist I was too tiny). District 12 comes in and every one is staring at them with a certain vengeance.

They come in and stop by us, all the other slots taken were taken by the districts whom were too scared to get near us.

I stop trying to walk off, but stare at the girl with the same distaste as the others.

She certainly wasn't ugly, or pretty. It's hard to tell under the pounds of make-up her prep team put on her face. But the boy was good-looking despite being from district 12. But I can't find whats so special about them.

Until I see the smoke rising from their costumes.

I believe they were set on fire, now that explains the drilling screams outside. It's worse then Tatana's voice in the morning, and that's pretty bad.

They look rather uncomfortable in their tight black suits and from the harsh stairs everybody is giving them. But I don't see what's the deal!

I look around the large room to see the outer and filler districts (5-10) bustle out of their horribly decorated chariots. I feel like an idiot still standing but it does give me some time to see why Cato is the last one looking at her.

A drunken man who is the shell of a soul, encased in a person, stumbles his way over to to the shell-shocked girl, pointing fingers at my chariot. How dare he! How can he even muster the thought that her can just point us out in front of everyone. Or even speak our names! District 2 is the most honorable district in Panem. He is scum.

I quickly look back for guidance at my mentor, which surprises me. Enobaria shakes her head, along with her fangs. The light bounces off them just like Tatana's. Great, if she comes in too, we'll have a light show. Brilliant.

Why not? I ask myself. I am more then ready to hop off this chariot, armour and all, and start fighting. That is, if I ever manage to get off. I see her mouth move and say "Save it for the games." She's right If I'm going to fight and win, I'll do it honorably. I'll at least have class. Which is more than can be said for 12's mentor - the druken freak.

I glance down at Cato, who is still having a stare down with the old alocoholic and the girl. He looks annoyed that 12, of all Distircts, stole _our _thunder. Who can blame him?

"Girls! Ladies! Phu-lease let me through! I need to see her!"

Oh my, it's him. Just what we need. I heard a scuffling and a grunt and finally his voice again.

"Thank you ladies! Oh darling..." He squealed, his voice echoing through the near-silent room. He sounded deeply troubled, which probably meant sometign extremly trivial had just happened. Maybe he broke a nail?

I see him staring at one of the girls, and, consdiering the fact she's dressed as a tree, I presume she's from seven. Before the poor kid could even studder he completed his innocent injustice.

"Those shoes are past season!" The girl's stylist tuts, ushering the tree away from Rox. And so, he skips to me, his teal unitard as tight as ever. How can he move in it?

"Darling! Clove where are you! I need to see your beautiful face!" Rox sung to me. Despite his strangeness, I'm still mesmerized by him. Maybe it's all the smoke I'm inhaling from 12.

"Rox!" I chirp, probably sounding a bit too frilly and girly, but it's hard to be sad around this man. He clambers up onto my gold encrusted chariot and for the first time, I notice how far it is off the ground. Everyone is staring at us even more then they did at 12.

"Hi honey! Girl, you look good as a warrior! Now get you ass down, come on, I'll give you a hand..." Rox tries to drag me off, but we soon realise it's not going to happen. If I try to step off here, the armours going to send me crashing too the floor, not tto mentiomn the fact that even standing still in these monsterous shoes is a task.

Rox attempts to pick me up as I try to explain in hushed whispers my problem. The rest of the Ditricts stare as the sadistc girl form 2 struggles to get off her Chariot. I swear I hear someone laughing.

Cato rolls his eyes in a tense movement, preaching to Brutus.

"Not him again! I thought I was having a nightmare when I saw him for the first time!" He jerked his thumb backwards at Rox. "People say I'm streong, she's the tough one, dealing with him!"

Rox gasps while shaking his index finger in the air. "Uh uh girlfriend! That is not how you speak about me! I don't see you trying to pick her up!" His thick capitol accent becoming very clipped.

Brutus mumbles something to a very still Enobaria. dount he meant for me to hear, but I just about catch it.

"That boy must have a frightening imagination to even think he thought of something like _that!_" Enobaria and Brutus howl with laughter whilst and Cato grins.

Rox is less impressed, and, to be honest, I agree with him.

"Ehem!" I start to speak up while the other districts are starting to disperse and find their floors, bored with watching me struggle. Either that, or they've spied the venom in my eyes.

"Well, Rox is right! You guys aren't helping, you big, burly men! Atleast _he _knows how to treat a lady!" I use the word 'lady' loosley, of course. Most ladies don't carry knives in theor socks. Cato and Brutus exchange glances, their manliness insulted. Ten, Brutus steps forward, his voice gruff.

"I'll get you down girl! "Brutus started to walk over to the chariot with masculine ambition, obviosuly trying to prove at point.

"No!" I cry. I don't want im picking me up, that is something to be very, and very afraid of. The last person he picked up was in his Games, and they ended up being thrown off the edge of a cliff and into a selection of very pointy rocks.

Cato lunges forward, forcing Brutus back. I think Brutus is more shocked with Cato's action to be angry with him this time.

"I'll get her." Cato's blond hair is ruffled under the cap as he starts to climb up to get me. I suddenly want to object and say that I could easily just stomp my way and use gravity to drag me down, despite the fact it'll destory my feet. But then I think of the crippled boy from 10, and decide against it.

Rox looks flabbergasted as Cato pushes past him. He puts a manicured hand up to his wide open mouth, fanning himself with a peice of paper.

"Oh, you deserve this princess!"

I barely notice Cato when he grunts my name, eye casted downward in an awkward stance.

"Clove? Ready?" I nod.

Cato twists his body to the side and grabs me, lifting me up as I were nothing but a rag doll. If this were the Games, he could easily snap me in half, or at least crush my bones.

I barely feel anything on the way down, it's like Cato has halted gravity and I'm all of a sudden as light as air in his arms. My legs dangle down but the shoes don't seem to add any weigth, it literally feels as though my whole mass has jsut vanished.

"Down we are." Cato uttered as he flipped me to stand. I land funny on the killer-heels, making my vision and balnce swoon. I grab Cato for support, almost instantly regretting it. Rox hopped down like a little bunny, still fawning over Cato.

"I wish a sexy guy who would pick me up and carry me away like that. It's like a fairytale!" I laugh, which caused me to wobble again as an Avox scuttles over and asks to take my shoes off, using movements of the lips and hands. I gladly prop my foot up on a crate as she delicately slips the solid gold off my foot.

"YOU. HAVE. THE. MOST. BEAUTIFULL. FEET. EVER." I hear a nasal voice echo across the room. I see a flash of crystal teeth, then a puff of yellow.

Tatana.

I try to hobble away from her, but due to the eminence imbalance in both weight and height, I don't make it that far before I have tos top and kick the other shoe off. I can jsut about jog with all the armour still on.

Rox yells after me. "Clove, honey I want you to meet my bff!" I wave my hand in his direction, spluttering something about already knowing her, before slipping round the corner. I notice Enobaria is already babbling on a earpiece with Brutus commenting now and again, a clipboard in his hand and pen in his hand. He taps Enobaria's arm, pointing to something on the paper and she nods happily.

Sponsors.

The girl on fire must have had gotten some, but I'm positive we've gotten more. We've have made a big splash just being our evil selves. Fire Girl can keep her flames going forever.

Smacking the elevator button, tap my now naked foot, waiting for it to come down. at first, it looks as if I'll be travelling alone, but I'm soon joined by Rox and Tatana, who, fortunaley, are too busy gossiping to pay me any mind.

Brutus and Cato follow suit, having a small quarrel, yet again. Enobaria is the last one standing in the Chariot room, amogst the horses and Avox's, her fangs moving so fast she even scratches herself on her chin a few times.

Tatana ushered her hand for Enobaria to come into the small elevator but she simply puts her hand to make her pause for a second. The elevator is jsut opening when Enobaria races over, scribbling out some of Brutus' handwriting on the clipboard.

"DeltaQuinn, not DeltaQuo!" she snaps at him, covering the microphone. "No, no, I wasn't speaking to you, carry on..."

I have never felt this small. Cato and Brutus take up half of the elevator, and with this bulky armor Cato looks even bigger. Tatana and Rox are squished into a corner squealing about the new purse that came out yesterday and how elephant skin is supposed to respond to your touch. I just stare in confusion.

Enobaria is still spurted out words at a million miles an our, constantly looking back over at Brutus' notes. I barely have any time to lean my back against a wall when my ears pick up what she's saying about me.

"Yes... Mhm, 5'4... no, it's not too short... Yes... Yes I'm sure it's not fake! She almost killed me today with a knife... Mhm, I'll look those stats up, but I did page her instructor and she said she was the best she's seen in years... Yes... Mhm... Yes, even better then Linster" My jaw dropped. Linster was the legendary knife thrower from 2, who manged to kill everyone in the arena. All 23 other tributes died at his hand, no one even got a chance to kill each other. It was said when he threw a knife, it just found a person.

"Do I think she's promising? Ah, yes" Enobaria looks at me like I'm a turkey ready to be cooked in, and she was deciding just how to season me. I feel exposed.

_Ding!_

The elevator stops at floor 2. Myself and Cato squirm our way through the others, trying not to knock into anyone, but fail when Cato manages to elbow Rox in the head. However, Rox can't even react before the door are closing and the elevator continues to whizz upwards.

We stand and watch it go up, listening to the mechanics whirring around

My fingers fumble for the training center button as me and Cato descend. It's 6 o'clock in the morning and I'm as tense as ever because of last night. There is an awkward tension between me and Cato that you can cut with a butter knife. He's at one end at the elevator, craning his neck while my body is stiff but very alert.

As soon as the elevator door opens Cato rushes forward, not wanting to have anything to do with me.

Well guess what, drama queen, you're not the only one!

I walk behind him, a few paces away. While his are rough and rugged mine are sleek and feline.

Total polar opposites.

The training center leader is run by a middle-aged woman with chocolate skin and cold muddy eyes. Atala. Everyone who's ever dreamed of winning the Hunger Games wants to work with her.

She generally keeps moving, walks around and helps people. I'm not sure where she is right now.

Five minutes later the pair from one bursts out of an elevator, expecting to be the first ones here. Too bad. I notice them as the pair form District One, the pretty girl and the tall guy.

The girl's face washes with disappointment, but cheers up when she see's Cato. Crap. They've never met each other, and already she's taken a liking to him. I notice a smug smile in my direction as she makes her way to Cato, sitting down by him with her lovely hair in two stupid pigtails.

Cato says something flirtatiously back and of the conversation starts. Cato glances a satisfied smirk in my direction.

You know what Cato? Two can play at this game.

I walk over to the spear station, where the boy from one is standing, marveling the shaft of a long spear.

"What's your name?" I ask. The boy jumped, still sleepy and weary from yesterday. He spun around, his brown hair bouncing all over the place.

"Hi, I'm Marvel"

Marvel sticks out his hand and I graciously accept it.

I peak over to Cato and the girl. She's twirling her hair like some kind of idiot. Cato looks as smug as a kitten.

Stupid bastard.

"Oh hi! I'm Clove." My voice has such a seductive tone in it , it causes the newly arrived tributes from a filler district turn their head in my direction. Cato seems to be unfazed. I'll show him that he is jealous!

"Hi Clove" Marvel said, his back propped up against a wall. Marvel isn't that bad looking. He doesn't have face issues, nor too wimpy looking, but there is just some strength that is completely lacking behind his lean and lanky body.

This kind of bantering lasted for hours. Half the time I was thinking of taking the club over by the door and smacking it into his thick head.

Finally when twelve came Atala popped out behind her desk and strutted in front of all of the tributes.

"I know most of you will rush to get ax or a sword but most of you tributes will die from natural causes. 10 percent from infection..." Her voice drawled into statics as I eyed the knife throwing station. On a top of rack there lay an array of knifes. The knife's jut out of the rack like a broken bone. But I want to touch them. I want to grip one of the dainty knife's blade in my small palm. I want to feel the smooth ridges brush against my finger tips. I want to throw it.

"And with that you can go" Atala barely manages to escape as soon as Cato and Glimmer ( what I learn her name to be) make their way over to some station that involves mutual help. The short sword session. Cato is showing her how to hold it properly while trying to touch her as much as possible.

Stupid bastard.

This fuels my fire. I strut over to the knife station and shoo the tributes away. Some stupid girl from 9. One quick glance at the 2 pinned to my chest is enough.

I barely notice that Marvel is following me while I grab the most evil/ dangerous looking one. It's a thin knife with a weighted, straight blade that is around two feet long.

I notice Cato is watching me, so is Glimmer, so is Marvel, so are the Avoxes, so are the other tributes who even care to notice my little angry facade.

I steady my body to be completely level with my target, a small, small, target, far away and way back of the room. It's a bomb that's being undone by a boy. Probably from 3 or something.

The boy keeps fiddling with it. Good thin it has a steady hand.

What I do surprises me even. I cock my head to Cato, then give him a secretive smile. Ha! Let him take that!

I turn towards the target and throw my knife. It rotates a few times, then starts to spin faster and faster.

The knife lodge's it's self nicely in the middle of the device. The boy from three looks worried as the device starts to smoke.

Ha! Cato take that! I feel like dancing and stomping on his ashes.

I look approvingly at Atala and then look at the judges. Each scribbles something down in their notebooks and has a thoughtful face.

I spin around and face Marvel that I now remember about.

"Can you show me how to spear? I suck at that" I ask, my voice shrill off of a high.

I shot a look at Cato while Marvel is leading me to the spear station by my hand.

"So uh! Can you show me how to do this?" My voice is coming off scratchy.

Marvel smiled, it wasn't a nice thing but I returned it flirtatiously while he grabbed my waist.

" You have to bend your knees like this." Marvel bended down and put pressure on my knees to bend them. His touch isn't welcoming but it'll have to make do.

I fake stumble and fall flat on my ass on purpose. Marvel picked me back up. And I squealed with a girlish tone.

This earned a smile.

"Now just bend you knees. And your arms." He slid a very light spear into my hand.

"And then you..." Marvel came from behind me, and put his grabby hands on my waist, causing our bodies to concave to each other. How I would like to have that club right about now.

As Marvel stood behind me, I kept him at a respctable distance. I may have wanted Cato jealous, but that didn't mean I wanted this idiot touching me. I shot Cato a quick glance to see if he was looking, and what I saw horrified me. Him. And Glimmer. Training. Together. He had hs arms around her waist, hands on top of hers as they both gripped a sword. Glimmer was acting as if she was incompetent (though it was highly likely she was) as Cato directed her swings. Her girlish giggling was enough to make me sick. I had to try harder.

Trying not to think about who it was I was with, I thrust myself right against Marvel's chest. I grimaced as I felt him against me, so lean and weak. He disgusted me. But, if I had any chance of revenge on Glimmer, I needed to pretend he didn't.

"So, you just hold it here right here?" I asked, a little to loud. I saw Cato look up. Perfect.  
>Marvel whispered something into my ears and started to hold his arm around me in a more intimate position. I giggled feverishly, my voice penetrating the room without a warning.<p>

Then he threw the spear at the target. My hand followed his, and, at the angle it was travelling, it would hit dead centre. I didn't want that. Pulling my arm slightly to the left, the spear jolted at an angle and it hit the dummy straight in the arm. It felt wrong to know that my shot had been so off, but I had to make it look as if I was pleased.

All I hear is "THAT IS NOT A PROPER SPEAR THROW!" Cato charges over, removing his hands so quickly from Glmmer that the sudden weight of the sword in her arms is enough to drag her to the floor. Marvel backs off as he gets closer.

I stare up innocently at Cato. "Why not? It hit the target." Cato follows my glare to the dummy. His lips form into a snarl as he sees it just barely in the arm. He flicks his gaze to Marvel.

"Go help her." he snaps, pointing at Glimmer, who is now even struggling to pick the sword up. What do they trian them in in District Two? _Flirting? _Then again, they can't even do that right apparently.

"You're aims perfect." Cato snarls. "You're faking."

"So what if I am. Jealous?" My teasing tone seems to grind against Cato, his face burns red with either anger or enbarrassment or both, but before he can come up with a responble response, two people are approaching us, eyes locked on both of our faces.

One of them, a boy with spiked up jet black hair, has a harpoon in his large, tanned hand. His blue eyes survey me as his thin lips curl up. He must be around seventeen or eigthteen due to the sheer size of him, even Cato only has a couple of inches on him height-wise, and their muscle is rather evely matched. The girl is smaller, but still taller than I am. She's slim and slender, delicate looking in a way, her mahogany coloured hair is scraped back off her face in a tight bun and her hazel eyes are flashing with deadliness. I know instatnly they're from District Four. Fellow Careers.

The girl speaks first. She must have watched a lot of television over the years, either that or had imensely rich parents, because her voice lacks the distinctive district four accent, but instead posses elements of the Capitol's whiney voices. Not enough to be deathly annoying, but still.

"Disticrt 2!" she says bluntly, but with a little too much enthuasiasm. "I'm Alea and this is..."

"Posidian. District Four. Fishing." he says, offering a hand. Both myself and Cato just look at it until he takes it down awkwardly. Cato nods to the harpoon in his left hand.

"Can you use it?" he asks. It takes a moment for Posidian to register what he's talking about but as soon as he relaises he means the weapon he smirks.

"Watch this." Tyring the string aorund his hand, he lanches the spear end of the harpoon halfway across the trainging hall. It hits the gut of a sword trainging dummy and with one quick flick of his wrist he's dragging it back over to us. When it gets their, he yanks the spear harpoon out then stabs the dummy in the chest. If it was a person, it'd have definatly drawn it's last breath.

"Impressive." Cato says. "But can you do it one someone who's breathing?" Posidian grins back, his incisor teeth starngley pointed, as if they've been sharpened. I instantly think of Enobaria in the arena. Deadly.

"You'll see soon enough." he says.

"What about the girl?" I spit, looking Alea up and down. She doesn't look like much to be honest. She smiles at me.

"Got a mace?" she asks. Reaching over to the rack behind me, I pass her the heaviest thing on their. It takes most of my strenght to even lift it, but when it reaches her hands it's like it's suddenly become as light as a feather. She stands the dummy her partner had dragged over up before lifting the mace way above her head. She swings it round like a mad woman for half a minute, striking the dummy again and again, barely ever missing, until there's nothing left of it. Then, she throws the mace down by my feet.

"Don't judge a book by it's it cover." she says simply.

"Nice." he says. Posidina nods expencantly.

"Go on then. What can you two do?"

I hiss. "I don't need to prove myself to you, District Four." I spit the name as thoug it's dirt. District Four only ever made it as Careers due to the fact that the Capitol buys their stupid fish for almost anything. Eating, spa treatments, weight loss programs, ingredients for their stupid dies and makeups, pet food, almost anyhtign made in the Capitol has somehting from a fish in it.

Posidian's face drops into fustration. I can tell he's a short fuse. Just like Cato then, I muse.

"Ok, pipsquek, how about I just..." Alea stops him before he can go any further. The apperance of her hand on his chest halts him dead in his tracks.

"It's ok Posidian." she says. "If she can't do anything, it's fine. She _does _look a little young." I know she's only taunting me, but I can't help but respond. Ripping five knives of a nearby table, I throw them all in quick succession at the spear targets. Two hit the chests of the tragets, and the other three hit the heads. Not a single one misses.

I turn to Alea, and even thoug I have to stand on my tiptoes, I stare her straight in the eye. "Don't judge a book by it's cover." I mimic. Suprisingly, she grins. Posidian looks at her and her glares back screams: 'I told you so'. I can tell who really wants to be in this alliance, and it's not Posidian.

"District 2, Clove Carione." a robotic voice spurted out in the hallway. It's been two days since training has started and it's time for scores. I hope I just throw straight.

I jump off of my seat, pat my tight leather pants, and start walking twoards the training center. Enobaria told me to throw my knives and so I will.

I look back for one last time and see Cato's eyes linger on mine.

I'll throw straight.


	5. Chapter 5

_ So whiphandgirl and chibipanda here! r&r! This chapter may get a little HOT AND HEAVY if you know what I mean xD _

"So you actually managed to spell your name in knifes?" For the fourth time, I nod. Tatana gives another squeal of happiness. "How?" Do I really need to explain this to her again!

"Oh for goodness sakes woman, she's told you four times! She got the paint from the camouflage station, wrote: 'Please welcome, your victor for the 74th Annual Hunger Games' on the wall above the dummies, then stood 45m back and threw all the knives to spell out 'Clove' in their heads, and 'Carione' on their chests!"

At least Enobaria has been listening. I smile at the memory, seven dummies, all lined up, the middle five each with a letter form my first name on my head, and then all seven with a letter form my last. Of course, I had to move the dummies first, but perhaps that showed a bit of strength too. They seemed pretty impressed afterwords.

However, once again, Brutus finds it necessary to rain on my parade. "It's not an art show girl!" he snaps. He doesn't say girl in an affection way, like Rox, but in a harsh, strict way, much like when he calls Cato 'boy'. As if we're below having actual names. Below Brutus' recognition. "If you want to win, making things look pretty is not the way to go about it! Just stab them and get it over with! No fancy shows! The audience won't love you if you're dead!"

Cato struts into the room, looking as suave as ever. Brutus is biting at his neck in seconds. "Where have you been, boy?"

Cato flops into one of the chairs in front of the TV. "Alea was talking to me about the alliance. She says Posidian's unsure about us." A sting of jealously vibrates through my body. Alea wasn't that pretty, but that better be the only thing they were doing. I threw a harsh look at Cato, which seemed to be staring off into space with a satanic grin on.

Brutus glares at him expectantly. "So, what did you tell her?"

"I told her it's not my problem what her district partner thinks."

"At least you're got that right, boy." He hisses. He walks over to the sofa and sits down. "Enobaria, get off that damn phone and watch the scores! Let's see what these idiots managed to rack up." Enobaria babbles one last thing to whoever is one the other end of the line, before she cuts it off. She strolls over and sits next to Brutus with a rude thump. Tatana sits the other end of the four seater sofa, leaving me squashed in between her and him. Enobaria's headpiece rings another three times whilst we wait, but Brutus orders her to ignore it. A few minutes later, Ceaser Flickerman flashes onto the TV.

"Welcome, welcome one and all! I'm Ceaser Flickerman, and this is the 74th Annual Hunger Games! Tonight, we present to you, the people of the Capitol, the scores of the twenty-four tributes. For three days they have pushed themselves to them limit, trying to find the one thing they are good at. These children, who have never touched a weapon before in their lives, must find something to keep themselves alive in the weeks that lie before them."

Everyone knows this is a lie. At least two people in this arena have been trained from birth, District Two _never _lets an unexperienced tribute enter the Games. My guess is that Glimmer and Marvel and Alea and Posidian has also had training, so that's six of us that know exactly what we're doing. It's supposed to be illegal. But no one really cares about it. The more brutal it is, the better show.

"Ok, let us begin! District One, Marvel Talson." Both myself and Cato curl our lips up in distain. I hope he gets a two. "Nine!"

Well that's annoying. Still, I can't deny, he was pretty good with that spear. He might be handy in our alliance after all.

"District One, Glimmer Meretriz." Zero. It's never happened before, but I plead with all the Lords above that today is going to make history. "Eight!" Eight! _Eight! _What did she do to get an eight? The image of her scaling the wall to 'sexually please' the Game makers enters my mind. That makes me laugh. If she did do that, an eight means she wasn't even that brilliant. Or the gamemakers were so drunk they meant to give her a zero but drew two. I know this isn''t possible, they weren't even a little bit drunk by the time I came it.

"District Two, Cato Fortis." Tatana jumps up squealing, then shushes us with her hands, even though she's the only one making any noise. I sat silently while Cato grimaced. Brutus looked eager for some reason and Enobaria's fingers were sneaking around her head piece.

"Oh, isn't it exciting!" she trills. Enobaria snaps at her to sit down, only to earn another shush from Tatana. Brutus grunts, leaning back in the chair. By the look on his face, he's expecting a seven, perhaps an eight at most. He has such high expectations doesn't he?

"Ten!" Tatana screams, pouncing up onto the sofa. Hopping around on it, she leaps over to Cato.

"Ten! Did you guys see that! A ten! Oh, well done!" Cato just smiled smugly as Tatana fussed over him and hs training score. Enobaria grins from behind her coffee, and even Brutus has some form of upward motion in his lips.

"Boy." he says, walking slowly over, placing a hand on Cato's shoulder. "You fixed the mess you made at the Chariots. Good." I suppose in Brutus' book, he has just given Cato the compliment of the century.

"District Two, Clove Carione." I stiffen. Was Brutus right? Did they not want artwork? Would I have been better just to get my knives and ht the center of the targets a few times? They've seen me throw, I've never miss, but maybe that's all they want. I cross my fingers behind my back and close my eyes shut.

"Ten!" Tatana nearly dies. She yells so loud that I actually have to cover my ears.

"Oh honey!" she cries. "The two tributes from District Two, both with tens!" Enobaria is on the phone in a instant.

"Yes, ten, you saw correctly... yes, they're going to be allies... a thousand? Yes, just let me get my assistant... _Brutus!_" Brutus' head snaps up.

"_Assistant?_" he hisses. Enobaria waves her hand at him in a nonchalant manner, before pointing at the clipboard.

"Aribella Franx, a thousand!" she whispers. "Yes Miss Franx, I'm assureyou, you're money will be well spent..." Enobaria struts off into another room, Brutus following her sulkily. I can tell he's really not into this mentoring business, but he's been doing it since the year he won, and he's become too much of a familiar face to quit now.

The door slams shut behind them and I'm left with a hyper Tatana that seems to have dyed her skin a lighter, pastel green and a smug Cato.

"Oh, darling, that's my phone! Oh, I bet it's Rox, he'll be delighted at you!" I've never known a prep to get so involved in with the tributes. They usually just clean you up and that's it. But then again, even by Capitol standards, Rox does not, in anyway, define the word 'usual', unless there is an 'un' beforehand. And everyone who's anyone has to know Rox.

Tatana whips a small device out of her pocket, I recall then being called mobile phones, tiny little boxes that can make a voice travel extremely far distances. We have some of the machines in the Victor's houses, but they're big and attached to the walls by long winding cords. These things fit in the palm of your hand easily.

"Oh godess, Prichshella! I thought'd be Rox... oh, he's out? With Julio, oh my! How's their relationship been going? Anyway, did you see the training scores?" Tatana also wanders off upstairs leaving me and Cato alone. I know neither our mentors or escort really care about the others scores. It might have been a deal for them to stay and watch four, but it doesn't matter, they're going to ally with us anyway. So I settle down on the now empty sofa and watch.

The boy from 3, Spark, gets a seven. heard a rumor that he did some excellent work with explosives. He could prove useful.

Alea and Posidian both get nines. This makes me smile when I realize Glimmer now has the lowest score of the Careers.

District Five Girl, Jessaline, get's an eight. That's slightly worrying, but when I think about how timid she's been, I brush her off.

Everyone else is pretty unremarkable, they stay around the four-six area. One boy get's a one, which causes both myself and Cato to fall about laughing. We're soon cut off when the boy from eleven bags another nine. He's absoultley massive.

"I asked him to join, but he refused." explains Cato. On how many errands has he been on? Every on is scrambling around, trying to make the best in the arena. I feel like I'm standing in one place, waiting for a bunch of servants to build a throne for me."His loss really." I agree, but something in the back of my mind tells me that this kids trouble. I make a note of his name. Thresh.

Finally, District Twelve.

"Peeta Mellark." A blond face comes on on the screen. I almost laugh at it's pitifulness. I mark him as bloodbath. Maybe I'll kill him personally, just to watch Fire Girl suffer. I'd like to drag one of my knives over his pale, sickly looking skin. To see a crimson river flow with a rush down his throat...

"Nine!" Nine! What is _wrong _with the world? First Glimmer and Jessaline get eights. Then, Thresh and Peeta scoop up nines! Are the gamemakers on drugs or something? I guess so.

"District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen." Fire Girl. Now we get to see her true colours. She's got no stylist to help her now. No flames, no Peeta, no adoring fans. Just her and a room full of weapons that I doubt she can even use.

"Eleven!" My jaw almost hits the floor. Eleven. The number is flashing on the screen and the word is echoing through my head, but somehow I just can't comprehend it. Eleven. The first thing I think is that there must be a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. Beacuase District Twelve gets threes and fours, _not _elevens.

I sneak a look at Cato, and his face s a mirror image of mine. That means I'm not imagining it. There's a loud bang and hiss, followed by heavy footsteps. The door flies open and Brutus charges across the room.

"_Brutus!_" screams Enobaria, her voice scratchy, but it's too late. He's tackled Cato the the ground, taking the chair he was sitting on down with him. Brutus snaps a leg of the chair and raises it over Cato's head. The stupid stick droops in the struggle between Cato thrashing around and Brutus pinning him down on the verge of insanity. He leans into Cato, his dark brown, almost black, eyes staring at him, his curly, jet black hair, that is slowly going gray, blocking the light and casting shadows on Cato's face.

"_Eleven!_" he barks, his furious voice bouncing off the walls while spit lands in Cato's face.

"You talk as if it's my fault!" yells Cato back. Brutus garbs his collar, dragging Cato's head off the floor. He's mere centimeters away from his face and he's snarling like an animal.

"I've had enough of your backtalk boy! I've mentored for twenty years, and I can tell you now, it's punks like you that don't get anywhere! You're death's gonna be a slow one boy, and I'll be laughing it up back here when you go. You and pretty little Knife Girl. And least she has a chance!"

Enobaria doesn't have time to shout again. I sprint across the room, tackling Brutus' off of Cato. I'm small and light, but Brutus wasn't expecting it, so topples to the ground, landing on his back. He struggles for a second, but I stand on his wrists and sit on his chest. Pinned.

I expect him to shout. To yell, to bawl, to curse me and all my family and threaten to leave me sponsor less in the arena. Instead, he grins. "You've got some spunk. I like it." I scramble off the huge man beneath me from new disgust. Enobaria drags him up off the ground, hissing somehting about not breaking the tributes before her headpeice vibrates and she is yet again jabbering to sponsors. It seems to be all Enobaira does. Scold Brutus, and rope in sponsors. Even though Brutus is about eight years older her senior.

"Upstairs, now. Now of you!" he barks. He needs to tell neither of us twice. I wouldn't want to be in the same room as him anyway.

It's about eleven o'clock in the evening when I knock on Cato's door. I'd been tossing and turning in my room for hours since Brutus sent us upstairs. The unfamiliar surroundings were less than comforting and the huge bed was so cold and empty that sleep was not but a nice thought. I presumed Cato was feeling the same, but I had knocked three times already and no answer. Perhaps he was sleeping? I'm just about to leave when he replies.

"Come in." I hear a mumbled: 'If you must' as I swing open the door. I see Cato perched on the windowsill, looking out over the Capitol. He could easily change the view if he wanted, he could even make it look like Distirct 2 is outside. I miss the rocks and the gravely pallet of my home district. But Cato's not one to live in a world of fakery and hope, do he sits and stares at the reality outside.

Stepping over a pile of dirty clothes, I join him, sitting down silently. Brightly coloured people are mingling outside, laughing and joking about there trivial lives. There's a couple intertwined, walking causally. I see a little boy come out of a toy shop wielding a wooden sword. His cherubic looking face is smiling and his blond hair is bouncing. He will go home and add it to is collection of fake weapons. Perhaps he will reenact what he sees on TV with his brothers and sisters. One of them may just fall and cut their knees. This is as close the bloodshed and torment we District children must face that the Capitol children will ever get but hunger for it. Perhaps that is why they are called the hunger games.

Then, their parents will tuck them into bed, they'll kiss them goodnight, happy and content with the fact that though their children might play with weapons, they're never going to have to handle them properly, or turn them against their fellow man.

Twenty four lots of families in the districts do not feel this way. One of them being mine.

Cato doesn't look at me, but he must see me out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought you were Brutus." he says, not taking his eyes of the window. "Come back to give me what I deserve."

I shudder. For some reason, the thought of Brutus coming into Cato's room at night scares me.

"You don't deserve it." I reply. "No one deserves any of this."

"I thought you thought the Games were magnificent? You've got a good chance of winning, being the mentor's favorite and all." I grimace. I avoid the first question, because honestly, I don't even know if I can answer it anymore, but can't help but to inquire about the second statement he made.

"Favorite?" I say. "What makes you think I'm the favorite."

Cato scoffs. "Please Clove. Brutus loves you, did you even see him today after you tackled him like that? No one's managed to beat him at anything in twenty years, and you pin him to the ground. He thinks your amazing despite being the size of a 13 year-old."

I shrug indiffrently. "Yeah, but what Brutus thinks of me doesn't matter. It's Enobaria that should be focusing on me, and all she seems to care about is talking to sponsors."

"Oh, please! Who do you think she's getting all those sponsors for anyway? _Better than Linster! _"

Cato mocks the tone Enobaria used to describe me to a sponsor. I guess I understand, it does seem like he is the second favorite and in the Hunger Games, second doesn't mean shit. You either come first, or you die.

"... _I _think you've got a chance of winning." I say. Cato glances up from the window.

"What?" Oh great, that's it Clove, stroke his ego. I don't think he even cares on what I think. Make it look like you've given up already. But I swallow my pride and doubt, and, keeping my eyes downcast, carry on.

"You're strong. You're excellent with a sword. I've seen you throw a spear from fifteen feet and I've never seen anybody more ready for this than you are." Cato grimaces.

"So that's it then. I'm _ready. _If you think I'm ready Clove, you're not as intelligent as I thought you were." I struggle to comprehend what Cato is saying.

"What? What do you mean?" My voice is becoming shrill and high pitched.

"I thought you were smarter! I didn't think you were like all the other idiots in our district, who think that this is _hounarble! _Who think that coming here and dying is somehow _fun! _Who thinks that this is a dream come true! I thought you were better than that Clove. I thought the girl I save din the quarry that day was kinder, I thought she had a brain, a heart! I guess I was wrong." How dare he even bring that day up. How can he rip a wound so easily and let it flow out what I've contained for years.

I reel back. How _dare _he accuse me of stupidity! Of emotionless! "Excuse me, Mr. High-and-Mighty, but you're the one who volunteered!" I snap, folding my arms across my chest.

"Oh of course, because when a whole district looks upon you to volunteer, when your own mother pressures you too, when your own father tells you he'll disown you if you don't, and _means _it, when your friends constantly ask you if you're finally going to do it! Then, when I finally get here, all I've got is Brutus screaming down my ear hole every chance he gets! It makes you feel weak and ridiculous, until one day you just can't take it anymore!" Cato's face softens as he realizes he's been shouting. My eyelids blink rapidly as I try to digest Cato's words. He can't mean all this. Cato Fortis is a bloodthirsty murderer in training. But as he sits here with his legs crossed and his beautiful blue eyes laced with sorrow I can't help but believe him. And here I am, listening out to his every word.

"_I _just can't take it anymore." He shouldn't be saying this. It's wrong. This isn't coming from this Cato. _My_ Cato

"Cato, this is what we're here for. District Two, we're warriors."

"Huh, your stylist fed you that crap too? They're just as terrible. We're trained to be like this Clove, it's programmed into our brains. We're forced to feel like this is our only option, raised like an animal for slaughter." He's not saying the truth. I do a double take and stand up, backing away with my slender arms in defense.

It hits me that he might be right. All those people telling us that this is the ultimate, that we can't get any higher than this? Maybe they are stupid, perhaps the view of the poorer districts is the right one to take, that the Games and the Capitol are evil and should be demolished? But what can we do? Surely it's better to play the Game and win than refuse and lose? Because all you do when you lose is die. Either in the Games or eventually, alone and unloved. At least if you win, when your time does come, people remember you.

"You're over thinking it Cato." I say. "You either enter or you don't. No one forces you." But yet again, Cato has an answer. He's magical

"So you want to be here then do you Clove?" I think it over. Do I want to be here. I don't know. Maybe.

My shrill voice continued, not allowing me to speak my mind.

"Why are you even here! You make you own choices! It's not like you can say something to the capitol! You've been acting so weird your not even Cato anymore!" Cato stands up, his looming body towering over mine in a angry stance.

My voice grew softer. "Well, if I'm here, then at least I'm with someone I know isn't a cold-blooded killer. Someone I know has a heart." There were a million other ways to avoid the situation. A million. I could of just ignored him, I could have just walked out right now. I noticed how he didn't even answer any of my questions.

"If you hate the capitol so damn much what you you like to say to them! What would you last act of defiance be." I hushed, Starting to walk out of the door into my bed. It seemed comforting now. It least it didn't have confusing people yell at you.

Cato grabbed my shoulder and twisted me around. "My last act of 'defiance' would be this". Cato's body crushed into mine, his warm lips finding mine as his arms intertwined with my body, wrapping his around my waist. I tried to break free. But that's not an option now. Not as Cato's huge arms crush me into his chest, not as I slink my own tiny limbs around him, not as we sit, intertwined on this windowsill above the Capitol, a meager two floors of the ground, where people can probably see us. Sitting like lovers.

I hate myself for it, and my mind is screaming at me to get a grip, but he reminds me of home, he smells like home, he _feels _like home, and the familiarity of it all relaxes me so much that my eyelids begin to droop. I think is how weak I must look as I fall asleep in Cato's arms. Cato grabbed me lightly and move us into a flat, plush surface. How stupid I am... Cato forced his way back into my embrace and kissed my forehead lightly. His thick arms roped around my waist as I started to drift away on his warm, comfortable chest. The only thing that brings me to sleep is the fact that his chest rises and falls so slowly I know he's also drifted off. The last thing that crosses my mind is the hope that no one finds us tomorrow morning before I have to leave. A voice taunts me in my head, saying I can be like this forever, sleeping against a boy that has to die in order for me to live. But I don't have time to listen to it's pleas as my mind shuts down and my heart starts to fall for the boy who saved me once.

_ Cato and clove action? I like it :D ~ w expect new chapters soon. Sorry I was glimmer-ho again. I'm a stickler for love/anger scenes xD_


	6. Chapter 6

I'm sitting in a beautiful meadow, under the shade of a large apple tree. I'm having a picnic with him, the sun was shining on his soft blonde hair and making it reflect back ten times brighter. We both laugh and joke as we gorged ourselves on the finest delicacies from across the land, mixed with the futile but familiar food from home. Nothing can ruin this.

"Wake up boy! If you want to even begin to compare to the girl in interviews, you'll have to have at least an hours head start!" The apple tree suddenly bawls, it's looming branches crashing against the cotton-candy sky. Except maybe that. Why is it talking?

"Wake up boy! I haven't got all day!" The apple tree screeches, it's voice booming over the green grassy meadow we were twirling in not too long ago. How was the tree even talking? Where was it talking from?

All I know is that it has the most delicious apples, apples that he fed me.

"I said wake-up boy!" The earth started to shake but stopped when I felt his hand touch mine. I stared into his beautiful eyes and he gave me a butterfly he caught. It had silver wings and a sunset colored body.

"I'm sorry I'm bothering you! But have you seen her? I'm sick to death of waiting, and I've got to do her hair right now!" A perfect apple whines. He grabs it, twisted the stem off and rubs it against his pants. He smiles at me, so perfect, the sun could not even compare. His fingers trace my mouth while he rubs his thumb against my full lips.

"Hey! Have you seen her! I can't give her tips on how to present herself while she's missing you know!" A rude voice emanated from the never setting sun.

"We'll the boy isn't answering, but he's a sound sleeper. I highly doubt they would go anywhere. That boy is too scared of me." The tree remarked, answering the sun's angry questions.

"I think I have a key! Oops! Wait yes yes I do!" trilled the plaid red cloth underneath us. I looked into his eyes. They looked worried.

"BOY! Where are you !" Again, the earth shook, but there was nothing to stop it this time. I felt the ground rising and my head lifting.

I didn't sneak back into my room, did I? My small arms wrapped around Cato's body as far as they could go and my lithe legs were intertwined with his muscular ones. Cato's arms pressed me closer to his body and his head nestled mine into the nook of his neck. I only had short pants on and a white tank top while Cato only had his boxers, and we were completely wrapped up in soft bedsheets.

I'm going to stay like this. What else can I do now? Anyway, Cato was the one that put me here so he'll have to do all the explaining. He's the one who... who.. Kissed me! I'm almost glad the sheets have me practically pinned against Cato, otherwise I would have freaked out. My arms squeeze him out of fright and he starts rousing.

"Good morning beautiful" I here him whisper, unaware of the four monsters seachering for us in his room. I try to kick him, but I can't move my leg. I'm surprised we've not been found yet. Unless.. Unless... I am so tightly wrapped around Cato that our body and limbs have just melted to make one form.

Either that, or the sheets are wrapped around us so tight, it looks as if Cato has simply shoved his sheets to the side when he left.

"I guess the boy isn't here." Enobaria said, her voice cool.

"Then where the hell is he then?" Brutus asked, making me shiver. Cato must have figured it out because he is as silent as a mouse, but still tracing small swirls on my back.

"I found him! Look, there's his foot!" Rox shrieked. Cato must have been so tall his foot stuck out off of the bed. No. Please no!

I felt a wisp of air as Rox lifted a tiny portion of Cato's comforter. I hear Cato grunt as Rox started to tickle his foot.

Cato's breath hot breath hung around my face and it was an uncomfortably pleasant feeling. His eyes made contact with mine as he tried not to laugh.

"Remember Carione. Your going to explain to." He growled as Rox started to lift the quilt even higher. Brutus must have been annoyed, but Rox was excited for some reason. Then again, when was he ever not?

There was a shriek of paranoia from my head prep.

"Oh gosh! There's another foot! Brutus! Kill it!" Rox screamed in his nasal voice. This is going to suck. What am I going to say? Don't worry guys, I was just feeling homesick, so I ran in here, and then Cato and I were just talking about how bad the games are, then he just kissed me so I fell asleep in his arms? No.

"What are you talking about boy! I don't see anything!" I must have been sleeping on the bottom for Brutus to not notice me. A slim finger poked me foot and the long nail scratched it as it pulled back. Either Rox or Tatana.

"Who's foot is that!" Brutus yelled out when her finally saw my foot wrapped around Cato's leg. Crap. I only heard Tatana's voice chime through the room of a perplexed Brutus, indifferent Enobaria (whom was chatting on the phone) and a scared Rox tried to poke my foot with a coat-hanger. Great.

"I think I know where Clove is!" She beamed quite cheerfully.

"WHAT!" I heard the beeping of Enobaria's phone being disconnected as the sheets were yanked off me.

Enobaria and Brutus' screams sounded at the exact same time.

Cato was thrown off of me and I barely even started to lift myself up when talons buried into my throat. Enobaria grabbed me as shoved me against the wall. I gasped, screaming for Cato .

Brutus was in a fit of rage, pounding his tribute to the ground with his fists.

"Let me go!" I shriek. I think of all the times I'd re-watched Enobaria's games. She was merciless, begging never did her victims any good. She only gave them a slower death.

Enobaria snarls and bares her teeth by my neck. Olden time stories of evil blood-sucking creatures called 'vampires' flood into my mind. Cato screams my name as he charges toward a vicious Brutus. He slams into him and they both fall, toppling on top of eachother.

"What were you to doing!" Enobaria spits into my face as I thrash around.

I barely have any breath to speak.

"I don't know! He did it!" Cato now stood a few feet away from a panting Brutus. Rox and Tatana were in the middle, clutching each other as a cause of fright.

Enobaria let me down but still had an iron grip on my shoulder, turning me away from Cato. Cato cried my name as Enobaria snapped at Rox to come with us. She ushered me out of the room with Cato and Brutus struggling again. Cato is trying to get to me. Realization flows in. I showed a weaknesses. I'm weak. But so is Cato.

Enobaria barks at me that Rox has only two hours to make me look beautiful. She growls into my ear as Rox tries to avoid her.

"We need to talk afterwords!" she snaps, and then bursts back into the room. I heard her yell, but I don't catch the name. She sounds pissed.

Rox shoved me into an elevator with a look that makes me more scared of him then of Enobaria. He presses the button for the prep rooms and then leans against the wall.

"Girl, you have some explaining to do!"

o.O.o

For the last hour I've been trying to convince Rox that nothing happened. He won't believe me though. I can hardly blame him, if I'd have seen someone in that position, I'd have a hard time trusting them a swell.

"Uh huh girlfriend! People just don't wake up in sexy people's beds and not have an explanation!" Rox trills, brushing my mahogany hair with a comb. It's full of knots and tangles, which probably don't help my innocent pleas.

"I told you Rox. I'm not sure what happened! Ask him yourself!" I state, moving my head back in defiance.

"Fine, I'm going to go ask him!" Rox taunted. It would take him a while to walk to Cato's station.

Enobaria decided us two lovebirds couldn't keep our hands off of each other so she switched my station with another tributes. I think the girl from 11's. I didn't see why I'm the one being punished, but then when I saw Brutus march Cato in, hand gripped so tightly around his arm I thought he was going to break it, with a bruise already beginning to show on Cato's face I don't dare to ask questions.

"No Rox don't, please, I just want a good interview! Rox!" Rox strutted in his unitard over to Cato's station. I stalk along behind him, trying not to get seen. The girl from eight gives me a funny look, but I glare at her and she turns away.

No.

No.

No.

Cato can't spill about the kiss. Everybody will know and Rox would never let it go. I can't look weak.

I grimaced as Rox strutted in his high heels. How does he walk in those things? And why? When we approach, Cato's prep team have left him in a large bathtub filled with a sickly green goo. It looks disgusting and he looks disgusted, but with Brutus only a phone call from his team away, he just sits and waits.

Rox walks over with his arms flailing and his purple lipstick covered mouth moving dangerously fast. I couldn't dare to look at Cato. Not after what he did. I started to pick at a newly sunset painted nail as Rox speaks to him.

He gasps and pounces around, asking questions upon questions, and I forced myself to look at Cato. He was smiling, then he frowns, then says something so appalling to Rox that he has to steady himself. I didn't make eye contact with either of them. Cato scribbles something on a sheet of beauty wax paper to Rox and folds it shut. Cato looks sternly into his eye, then says something. Oh god.

Rox clasps his neon pink hand around it, and rushes off towards me. I'm scared. Cato shouldn't have said anything.

"Honey! You have to explain things to me soon, cause you don't seem like the type to kiss and NOT tell." Rox chirped taunting me with the piece of paper while grabbing some thick, yellow paste to put on my feet. Great.

Why did Cato even tell him! Does he really think like that about me?

"Fine, Rox" Rox slams the jar of paste onto a counter and dragged a chair over by me.

"Tell me everything darling."

So I tell him how I couldn't sleep and I went to Cato's room, hoping he would be up. And that we were talking. I can't say that we were talking about the horrors of the Capitol. For one, Rox lives here, and for two, Rox is too delicate for stuff like that.

Instead, I lie and say we were talking about how amazing this is and I then just say I had to leave to go to my room before I was locked out.

Rox gasped and exhaled at each part, like it was interesting.

"Get to this kiss already." I giggled, happy for once. What is this boy doing to me?

"Well, I was getting ready to leave, then he just turned me around and kissed me. I guess I was so tired I just fell asleep in his arms. He reminded me of home." I said. This is like a fairytale version. I feel like I'm lulling a child to sleep with tales of romance.

"Oh honey! That sounds gorgeous! I wish I was you! I was getting a bit hot under the collar when I was walking towards that bath,if you know what I mean!" I grimaced, thinking of me walking towards Cato while he's washing. I have no clue what would have happened.

"Was he a good kisser!" Rox asked while I was spacing out.

"Hm, oh yea." My hand flies to my mouth and I slam myself back into the chair. Crap!

"I-I!" I stutter, trying to pretend I'd never said anything. "Well! I can't say." I burst out, blushing, hanging my head, purposefully hiding my face form view.

"Honey? You haven't kissed a man before? Don't worry this is how it feels like." Before I can even say anything Rox leans in, and kisses me on the mouth. At first I was appalled. I thought Rox was gay. Then I shuddered as he lifted his head. I heard a table flipping and crashing in the distance. Certainly Cato's. I think I hear a bunch of Avox guards strapping him to a chair as he tries to break free. Surely he can't see us?

As Rox pulled away I started to calm down. It's Rox, and Rox is gay, kisses don't matter to him.

"EUH!" he says, wiping his lips with his hand. He looks almost as horrified as me. "And that's why I like men! You lips were too soft. And by the way, there's this thing called toothpaste honey." Rox said, re-applying another coat of lipstick because his was smeared across my face. I heard Cato being tasered. Is he that bad?

"Uh, Rox?" I say, smacking my lips to try and get rid of the grape flavor on my tongue. "I have kissed a boy before, you know. It's just that his kissed was more forced on me."

Rox shrugged, and smiled.

"At least you got to taste the king!" Rox says, starting to wax non existent hair from my legs. He really does like Cato doesn't he? I'm sure it'd delight him if he knew he was such a sex god to homosexual men.

"How was it in bed with Cato?" Rox asks softly a few minutes later. This is a bit too far with him even!

"I didn't have sex with him!" I say, a bit embarrassed. A blush forms on my cheeks and I must look as guilty as anything.

"Oh honey, I didn't ask about you two having sex, you came up with that all alone." Rox jokes, laughing. "But if you did, how was it with the mighty Cato?" I gasp then throw my arms in the air. How could he even have the guts to ask about something like that.

"It didn't!" My voice became shrill.

"Oh honey, by the rate this is going, you will be!" I almost choke on the air.

o.O.o

"WHAT IS THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS NOTE!" Enobaria screeches into my ear. It seemed Rox had forgotten to give me Cato's note, so he had the brilliant idea to leave it in my room. Of course, Enobaria went in their to find me, and found the note instead.

At least I found out what it said. In his boyish script it read: "Why are you ignoring me today? You definatley weren't ignoring me last night."

This makes it seem like we did something bad, very bad. And Enobaria is freaking out about it.

"I DON'T WANT A PREGNANT TRIBUTE TO BE IN THE ARENA!" I literally curl up into a ball as her fangs speak to me. Why did she have to have those bloody teeth out in? She'd be nowhere near as scary without them.

I glare at her. I'm not that stupid!

"I didn't do anything!" I screech back. She frowns, before quickly tapping a speed dial on her headpiece.

"Brutus!" Her voice is fast and clipped, laced with anger. Oh no.

"Yes, YES! Yell at the boy! You know what he wrote to her?" Enobaria recites the note and I hear Brutus bark at Cato, even over the phone. Good. He deserves it for this idiocy.

"Ok, good! Bye. You can't do this Clove!" Enobaria shuts her phone off and starts to lecture with me. "I don't care on what you do in the arena but please! NOT HERE!"

I pulled my hands to my ears. I swear the glass is about to break.

"Clove, don't get yourself attached. It's dangerous! Just avoid him, ok? Try not to speak to him, and defiantly don't make contact. I've got to go, it's the mentors dinner tonight. Good luck with the interview. Remember what I told you."

With that, she steps out of the room, headpiece back on, talking yet again.

o.O.o

"Honey you'll do great!" Rox says, his hand in mine. Twenty-two tributes stand waiting to walk on for the first time onto live television. Glimmer has already gone onstage and Marvel is on now. He thinks he's so funny, cracking jokes and laughing. Let's see how funny he is when I'm stepping on his throat.

Cato's been told to keep a respectable distance away from me. It seems his idea of a 'respectable distance' is a mere 2 meters. But I've been told to blank him, so I pretend like he's not even here.

I hear him growl. I'm going to ignore him. He made me weak.

"And your dress! It's so pretty!" Rox stroked the silky fabric of orange dress. It was left in my room with a note from Jerique, Cato's stylist, the one that greeted us one the first day. Apparently she stays to watch the prep.

_Hope you like it, I worked hard ~ Jerique Millan xx_

I'm not sure why she designed my dress, or what the hell happened to Harpera, who was supposed to be styling me, but it was gorgeous.

"And District 2's very own CLOVE CARIONE!" a voice screams overheard.

"That's you!" Rox cries. It's time for the interviews with Caeser Flickerman. I swallow and felt every ones eyes on my back. Especially Cato's. Rox shoves me out onto the stage, and try not to stumble. Glimmer-ho was flat out sexy, but I'm going for something different. Enobaria worked out what I am the best at. Being coldhearted and sadistic, but mixed with a kind of sweetness, due to my size.

"Hello Clove!" Ceaser had blue lips and blue hair this year. Last year he had crimson. IT looked like blood. I liked it.

I said hello, smiled and waved to the huge audience. It seemed like all of Panem had turned out tonight.

"So, first I wanted to ask you about your score. T-E-N! It's hard to imagine what a pint sized woman can do to make a score so high!" Caeser drawled.

"Well" I answered maliciously. "You have to wait and see."

"Ohh! We have a few tricks up your sleeve now don't you?" Ceaser asked, the whole stadium quiet, waiting for my answer.

"As a matter of fact I do. Let's just say the audience are going to get an _excellent _show." I answered slyly, starting to warm up.

"We wait with baited breath, I assure you! So what's life back home, I'm sure you have a family?"

I talk in a short bursts of breath about Hone and my mother and father, how I always dreamed of being in the games and what an honor it is. I spoke in a harsh, cruel way, almost making a mockery on Caeser himself. Asking questions instead of answering them, and even when I did, I never truly gave him what he was looking for.

"So Clove, you're a pretty young girl, who's the lucky lad you've fallen in love with back at home?"

I laughed, a short cruel thing that sounds like a clang of two swords against each other.

"There is no one." No one back home at least. I looked at Cato who seemed indifferent, ready to go to bed.

"But there has to be a boy or at least someone you love!" Ceaser demanded, the city of Panem yelling at me.

The angles of my mouth curved downwards.

" I can't think about love, these are the games. Anything else is just a distraction. When I get home, perhaps I can..." It's a good thing that my buzzer cuts me off. When I get home perhaps I can what? It suddenly sinks in why Enobaria says I can't get attached to Cato. Because if I want to come home, I've got to kill him. Or at least let him die. And vice-versa.

"Oh, unfortunately our time with our little malicious maiden has run out! Best luck to District 2's CLOVE CARIONE!" Panem went wild, thinking about my vicious snarling on the chariots an how many people I will kill.

I smiled and stumbled into a surprised Rox off the stage. Cato went out and the crowd went wild for him.

Of course.

Rox meowed.

"Girl! I thought you were about to bite the head off of Ceaser the way you were acting!" He meowed again.

"Who said it's an act?" Rox basically purrs in delight.

"Hey Rox, where's Harpera, I want to thank her for this." I say, referring to my dress. For the first time since I've met him, Rox's face screws up.

"Oh, Harpera." he spits the name as if it's mud. "Never you mind about her. Now excuse me, I must go and speak to Ladiya and Prishchella." he says, trotting off. What could he possibly want with his insane co-workers? Their job was basically finished now.

"He's big, he's bad, he's burly, he's Cato Fortis from District 2!" I whip my head to the TV on the wall as I hear Cato's name. The audience erupt into applause. His names is chanted, and I think about the time he fought outside my house. Was it really only such a short while ago?

Cato is dressed in an all black suit, with a grey shirt underneath. It's simple but it suits him. Because he's simple, as well I think bitterly. Simple-minded.

Caeser gives him time to sit down before nodding to his backstage crew to start the countdown. Each tribute gets two minutes and two minutes only to make their impressions. _Good luck Cato._ Even my thoughts drip with sarcasm.

"Good evening. Now, we've just been talking to your district partner, Miss Carione, who got a ten in her training. I've been told that you matched this score?"

"Scores don't matter Caeaer. What matters is if you've got the guts to kill another human being. To live with the fact that you've ended a life."

"And will you be able to do it Cato?"

"I won't just do it. I'll _relish _in it." The crowd goes mad, but I snarl in horror. So much for 'this is wrong' and 'this isn't hounourable' or 'this isn't fun'. Cato is loving this.

"Well, I can't wait to see you in the arena. But let's go outside the Games for a second. Your mother was a victor too, correct?"

"Yes."

"And she was brutal too. Tell me, do you model your tactics off your mother at all?"

"Never. She won by being sneaky. Sneakiness is what the weak use to get by. Sneakiness is my mother. Sneakiness is Clove Carione. I'm strength, pure-blooded." I want to throw a knife at his head. How dare he? He wasn't calling me weak last night, when he was sleeping next to me.

"Strong words from a strong man." Caeser and Cato cover many topics, most of which Cato just turns into either a way to show of his malicious strength or insult me. Then, Caeser takes a peek at the clock.

"Well, we've not got much time, but I feel obliged to ask, is there anyone you're seeing now?"

"No." Caeser grins, playing it up to the audience.

"You here that ladies, he's single!" There's a chorus of screams as the girls in the audience fawn over the blond boy on stage. They are so fickle.

"So, do any of our fine Capitol girls have a chance, or is there someone on your mind?"

"Well, yes." That shocks me. He can't be serious? "I've tried to win her over, but she's a tricky one."

"Couldn't you just use your inemse strength to, you know, pin her to a wall or something?"

"She's dangerous Caeser. I think if I attempt to get near her again she might kill me!" The people of the Capitol laugh. Since Rox is in the room, I try to make it seem as though I'm not fuming. But I am.

"Oh! Well, she'll be regretting it when you return home as the Victor of the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!" Caeser chirps.

Cato grins. "Oh, _very _much so. She'll be _dead _unhappy." If the amount of emphasis he puts on the word 'dead' doesn't give away that his little lovebird is in the competition, nothing will. I can already see Brutus' reaction when Cato comes off stage. At this rate, he won't make it too the Games.

The buzzer sounds again and the Capitol groans. "Sorry folks, that's all we've got time for. Well, thank-you Cato, I'm sure you'll get far. Give it up for CATO FORTIS!" The whole stadium rises, clapping their hands and screaming his name.

Rox shivers behind me. "Girl, I hate to say it, but you've got some serious competition!"

o.O.o

It's time for launch. It's come to soon, far, far too soon. I spent all last night tossing and turning in my bed, not managing to get a wink of sleep. But I refused to leave my room. Not with Enobaria and Brutus patrolling the halls to make sure I don't sneak into Cato's room again. Like I'd do that anyway.

I've been under the arena for an hour now. We were all flown over and dropped off at the same time. If anything, it was entertaining to watch some of the other tributes reactions. A small girl from seven, who couldn't have been any older than thirteen, looked absoultley petrified. Bloodbath.

The boy from five looked cocky and over confident, and the look didn't suit his tiny body. Bloodbath.

The guy from eleven sat opposite me, his black eyes staring out of the tiny window. He looked even bigger up close, even more menacing. Threat.

I'd continued this process of labeling tributes all the way though the journey. I try not to look at my allies, especially Cato or Glimmer, but I do peek at Posidian every now and again, who, everytime I look, is staring at Alea. However, I never see her looking back. She just glares at a spot directly opposite her, teeth clamped together, nails digging into the chair.

When I landed, I was quickly forced into a long, thin corridor, along with everyone else. They all broke off at different points, Thresh going first, followed (much to my joy) very rapidly by Cato, then Marvel, then the girl from 7.

Just after Jess aline was dragged into a door, I was pushed into one of my own. I followed another long corridor, before coming across another sold wooden plank. I pushed it open, and found Rox already inside.

He's been preparing my for the games ever since. I'm now in a burgundy tracksuit, with a tight black t-shirt underneath. My zipper is pulled halfway up and my feet are clad in strong black boots, laces tied tight. Rox had tied my hair up out of my face, but he's not allowed to use hairgrips. It could give me an 'unfair advantage'. How ridiculous. What am I going to do, shove it down someones throat and make them choke? I could do that with anything. Even the agleam off my lace.

Even though Rox is here, and I couldn't wish for anyone better to see me off, something bothers me. Harpera, my stylist, the one who should be preparing me for this, isn't.

"Rox, where's Harpera!" I snap. "I haven't seen her since the chariots! What's happened!" Rox sighs in frustration.

"She's been fired." he states, an angry look on his face.

"What?" Fired? Mid-games. What did she do?

"She aided district 12 in their chariot rides. Harpera's the only stylist that would able to get fake fire, her fiancee works to make it. It's illegal for the stylists to even have contact with the other districts, let alone assist them."

I feel betrayed. Harpera made district 12 such a hit. She could have done that with us. I imagine standing on a flaming chariot, with fake fire licking across my body, reflecting across the golden. The fire represents the heat of our passion to win, the danger of district two. We'd have been stunning. And 12 would have been ignored. But no. Harpera helped them.

"Disgusting isn't it." snaps Rox. "And to think I used to look up to her. "Jerique went mad when she found out. She's the one who reported her."

"So, I'm sylist-less." I huff. "Great." Believe it or not, stylists could be a huge part of the sponsorship game. People sometimes gave money because they'd heard a stylist's name, or wanted to purchase outfits. If the games were going at the time, fifty percent of the money earning form any styling sold would have to go to the tribute. And if I won, what the hell would I do? Use Phenobarbital's old dress? No. It was disgusting, tawny-golden like her eyes and with sharp jadged edges. Maybe that's where she got the idea for her teeth from?

"Not exactly." Rox says. "We've hired another."

"Well, he male, he's amazingly funny, he's absoultey the most hadsome person in exisstence, and he just happens to be standing in this very room."

"Say hello to District Two's newest styling extranganza honey."

"Jesus, you're worse than Prishchella and Ladiya! They went insane. "

"So I've only got 2 prep now?"

"Oh good heavens no!" exclaims Rox. "Ladiya's been looking for a new ally ever since I told her. I think they've cut it down to three 'finalits'. They'll definatley be one waiting her for you when you come out.

I snarl. "_If _I come out."

"When. Now, get in that elevator." I can see Rox starting to tear up. "Oh, honey, one last thing!"

He pulls out of his pocket a small silver chain. Cato's sisters braclet. "This was lying on the table in the dining room. I presumed it was one of your tokens. I can't imagine it being Cato's."

It's supposed to be Cato's, I think. She gave it to him. _But he gave it to you,_ a voice in the bakc of my head whispers. I take it off Rox and fasten it round my ankle. It only just reaches round, and I fold my toruser leg over it. I can wear it with no one noticing.

"So I don't look weak." I don't realise I've spoken outloud until Rox gives me a funny look.

"You aren't weak Clove. You're a warrior. And you're goign to win. Remember, I'm going to be waiting for you at the end of the Games. I'll have the prettiest dress you've ever seen. For the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Good luck, little Clover."

He lets a few tears fall as he gives me one final hug. He reeks of vanilla and coconut, and something else bitterly strong that I can't place.

Over his shoulder, I see Enobaria slipping through the door.

"Clove?" Rox pulls away, as do I. He gives us both a quick look.

"I'm going to go... I-I-'ve got a d-date with Julio an-anyway." There's a neon pink blur as Rox darts out the door. I can hear him sob as soon as it slams shut.

My mentor stands there for a moment in silence. Then, her head snaps up to me.

"Clove," she snaps, matter of factly. "I always side with Brutus. He picks a tribute he wants to win, and he hammers into them like a piece of meat. He's horrid, he's strict, he's a monster, but he does it to bring out a spark. A sprak of anger, of unworth, a spark that just burns to prove to him that your not useless. I know how Cato feels. Because I know how I felt. As if I wasn't even as good as the dirt beneat his feet. I thought the boy was the favourite. Until he died of a totally curable infection, whilst I sat their spping soup and broth. He bullies who he has faith in and leaves who he doesn't. Most years I'm just silenced by him, let him chose our favourite, I just grate in the sponsors. But this year... Clove, I want you to win."

Enobaria actually looks uncomfortable. Her waves of mousy brown hair are in her face, and I can't help but think she let it down to hie herself somewhat. Apparently, it used to be down to the floor before she voulnteered. Brutus made her stylists cut it all off to just below the breast. They must have used some product on it, because it's never grown again.

"I've directed all of the sponsorshp I can your way without Brutus noticing. I'm going to finally show him that he's done with this now, and if Cato wins, it's jsut going to convince him he's still fine. He's not the young man he was twenty years ago, he needs to stop acting like it. He needs to settle down now, stop with all this business. I need you to win, so you can be the mentor next year alongside me. It'd be an honour to work with you properly."

I'm shocked. Enobaria is standing here, asking me to win. Not for Cato, not for her, not even for myself, really. For Brutus. I don't know what twisted logic she is applying here, or why she even cares about the middle-aged man who won the 54th Hunger Games all those years ago back when he was eighteen, but it doesn't change the fact she's standing here asking me to win these Games.

And if she's asking me to win, that means she has faith in me. For he first time since the Games began, I'm truely happpy to have her as a mentor.

"All tributes must now board the lauching pad. I repeat, all tributes must now board the lauching pad." The voice of a gamemaker booms thorughout the undergorund launch rooms. It's time.

I step onto the cool metal, pulling at my ponytail. A stray piece of hair breaks loose. In a just over a minute, this strand of hair will be covered with the blood of children. The glass comes up around me, and I know I only have seconds left. I stare at Enobaria, gaze into her tawny eyes, look at her sharp and pointed teeth. I wonder what she felt when she was in here?

"Win." I see her mouth. Then, my plate begins to ascend.


	7. Chapter 7

**HEY! Were back with another chapter! Yay! XD without futherado, go read it my little mockingjays~ w&c**

_ Sixty_

_ Fifty-nine_

_ Fifty-eight_

I survey the arena. In a strange way it's rather beautiful. The large golden horn known as the Cornucopia stands in a small clearing at te edge of a rather large looking forest that surrounds most of the grass patch. There's a lake nearer the woods, filled with what seems to be fresh water. I'm not going to be the idiot that takes the chance though. The small section of the outer layer clearing that is not surrounded by trees dips into a steep hill. Below it, there is grass, in places perhaps taller than me, for as far as the eye can see.

_ Fourty-one_

_ Fourty_

_ Thirty-nine_

I'm stood in between the girl from District 5 and the boy from District 8. I give the boy a small wave and his face pales. When I point at him and drag my finger across my throat he almost faints from fright. I pray that he doesn't, the blast he creates when he falls off his platform might reach me, and even if it doesn't, I don't want to be picking bits of tribute off my clothes just yet. I got these today.

_ Twenty-five_

_ Twenty-four_

_ Twenty-three_

Cato's seven places along from me, cushioned between Marvel and the hulking boy from 11, who is on the end. My mind reels from looking at him so i flick my eyes away. Lover Boy is four placers away in the other direction, with only the little girl inbetween him and Posidian. The boy from 9 blocks the District Four boy from Glimmer, and only two tributes seperate her from Fire Girl. Five spaces away from her is Alea, on the other end of the semi-circle from Thresh, the massive beast from eleven.

_ Nineteen_

_ Eighteen_

_ Seventeen_

I study the items in the Cornucopia. There's weapons one can only dream of. Spears are ready for the taking by the mouth, a long katana sword was pinned to the wall. Most of the weapons and packs are spread around us but the real survival stuff is inside. There's a huge tent that could easily survive all types of weathers inside of the Cornucopia. I want that. I also want a long, dainty knife that looks wicked in the blinding light. The ten seond countdown starts and I prepare myself for battle. My fingers twitch, awaiting the moment they can close around a knife, only to throw to agian seconds later. I'm ready.

_ Ten_

_ Nine_

_ Eight_

_ Seven_

_ Six_

_ Five_

_ Four_

_ Three_

_ Two_

_ One_

The gong sounds. I'm the first one off my platform and race towards the Cornucopia. The knives are so delectably close to me that it's hard to believe that it wasn't planned. Random placement my ass.

I scoop up a collection a six in one fowl swoop. My eyes lock with the back of a boy's shaggy haired head. He's grappling for a backpack with non other than Fire Girl herself. I'd love to aim straight for her, but this idiot is in my way. With a quick flick of my wrist, the knife soars through the air. As usual I'm right on target and the point rips through his skull, sending him slumping to the floor.

I thought my first kill would carry some kind of guilt, that I would feel some kind of regret for ending a life. But all I feel is adreniline coarsng through my blood, seeping through my veins and arteries as my heart pumps at a thousand beats per minute. Check one off of my list.

Another knife leaves my hand, flying at the Fire Girl's neck, who's trying to escape with her now claimed backpack. She's as good as dead. My blade is only inches away from her flesh when she bumps up the orange pack. My knife gets stuck in it and I hiss. It was a perfect shot, and she fucked it up.

I toy with the idea of chasing her down, but quickly brush it off. Why make her feel special? We'll easily catch her later. No pun intended. Turning my attention back to the bloodbath, I fling another knife at the male tribute from D6, he stumbled around, and grabbed the knife from his back. It's amazing he's still running and seemingly healthy. I guess the knife must have hit a rib. I decided to make my mentor proud. I shoved my knife back into my pants, and spirited towards the boy. He was staggering towards the grass when I flung my self onto him. He fell back due to my slight shift of weight but quickly stood up. D6 was running away from me. NO! I lunge at him again, my teeth barred and ready to attack.

"THIS IS FOR YOU ENOBARIA!" I shriek as I shove him into the ground. His brown eyes wided and I come mere centimeters away from his face. I feel his heavy panting and his fear.

"You'll help me make my mentor proud? Right?" He tries to cringe away from me. NO! I extend my teeth near his throat. I force my mouth onto his throat and try to mute his screams. My teeth feel blood flow from his throat quickly. It leaves a salty taste in my mouth as I rip his tendons and arteries up. I didn't even feel the meat in between my teeth. I was hysterical. When if feel him die out I jumped, the bloodbath is still on. Over his dead and bleeding body, I see Alea sink a mace into the girl form 9's skull. Her whole head basically explodes, leaving Alea's face covered in blood and what I can only presume is pieces of flesh and brain. It looks like ribbons. For a moment, she looks shell-shocked, before she rapidly turns away form the body, swinging her mace once again into the boy from 7's stomach. He doesn't die, but instead tries crawls away, only to end up stumbling into Cato's path.

My district partner puts a blade though his neck, ending him immediately. Studying his belt, he's obtained three swords and an ax already. He sees me and grimaces, before carrying on. I can't let him distract me, not now.

Glimmer is still trotting around weaponless, trying to avoid getting killed. Not like anyone else is doing any murdering. She looks like she's stumbling around and trying to kill the children at the other career's feet. No freaking way.

She lunges for a bow and arrow, narrowly missing Posidian's harpoon, that I have no doubt has been placed in their especially for him. It hits the girl from 6, who is trying to run away with two backpacks and a sword, in the leg, and he performs the same maneuver he did in training. Dragging her back across the battlefield, he pins her with his foot. Then, he just stares at the sniveling girl. I'm just about to throw a knife to finish him myself when Posidian hands the killing blow. That was slow enough.

A spear shoots across the Cornucopia, hitting an unsuspecting boy in the back. I'm not one hundred percent certain, but I think he's the one who almost peed in his pants, the one from eight. Marvel races around and plucks out his weapon, almost smiling at his kill. I've seen six people die so far, four boys, two girls, and the bloodbath shows no sign of letting up.

Cato kills two female tributes with one spin of his sword. The idiots obvisouly thought they were competition enough to go against us. I recognize them as 3 and 10. Stupid much?

Posidain runs off around the back of the Cornucopia, harpoon raised. I don't know who he's chasing, but they won't make it far.

I only see two more tributes that aren't in our pack left. The girl from 7 and the boy from 5. They seem to have made some sort of alliance, they're both attempting to sneak away into the grassy area unnoticed, hands filled with weapons and supplies. Glimmer tries to fire an arrow at them from the mouth of the horn, but she's desperately slow as loading her quiver and even when she does, the arrow just shoots of in a random direction, landing stuck up in the ground.

My theory for what she did in the private training session is becoming more plausible by the second. Marvel throws a spear into the girl, hitting her directly in the lower back. She screams in pain as she falls to the floor, only to be silenced by me embedding a knife in her head. Screaming? Really? Get more creative.

The boy realizes his mistake and drops everything, trying to run at the last minute. In his blind panic, he charges into Cato's outstretched blade. His eyes widen as the life is sucked out of his veins and his blood spills on the floor. How many tributes is that? Ten? Not bad for a bloodbath.

We all group around Cato. Alea is yet to get the remains of her first victim off her face and Marvel gives her a look of incredulous horror as he pulls a lump of flesh out of her hair. I grab all the knives out of the tributes at my feet, wiping them on my trouser leg. I could count them, but I see so many more littered around that I know I'll have plenty by the time we're finshed here. We wait a few seconds for Glimmer and Posidian to show up, but they don't arrive.

I'm just about to inquire when Glimmer's shriek echo's throughout the Cornocupia's clearing. We all race to her aid, but part of me hopes she's dead, or dying. But I'm never that lucky. We find her knelt in a pool of blood, and for a second, I think she's been cut, until I realise that it's not her own. Damn.

We reach her and see that she's helplessly trying to assist someone. Alea kicks her out of the way, her tone bored and passive. "Move it or lose it blondie, just let the idiot d..." Her voice cuts off as Glimmer's body inches sout of the way, making a clear path for Alea to see the body. She falls to her knees in an instant.

"Posidian?" District Four is lying out on the ground, soaking in a puddle of deep red liquid. A sharp blade is protruding from his chest, just to the right of his heart. Judging by the way the blood seeps out of his mouth it's got him straight in the lungs. He's despearlty trying to hold on, you can see it in is eyes, but the knife that is caught in his organs means nothing but death. He hears his name, and lets out a low moan. Alea's eyes are laced with tears as she grips his hand.

"Who?" she hisses. Posidian can barley move his thin, blooded lips to speak, but when he does he manages to force out two words.

"Lover Boy..." he says weakly. For god's sake, what the hell happened to district twelve this year? They've gone from zero to hero. Perhaps not the greatest comparison, but gone from zero to exceptionally good competitors in the Hunger Games does not sound nearly as good.

"Sorry Alea, I tried, I really..." His voice fades off as his head drops back down to the ground. The sting of D6's blood is still in my mouth. His canon doesn't go off, but we know he's dead. They need to count the bodies in the bloodbath to know how many died. Plus, it's not over yet. It's never over.

Alea gets up, her eyes filled with a fiery vengance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a bush rustle and a flash of blond hair. There's only three people in the whole arena left alive with blond hair. Cato, Glimmer and Lover Boy.

Alea must have seen it too. She sends a vicious battle cry vibrating through the air and all the birds in a ten mile radius fly off in fear. And so does Lover Boy, but his seems more out of fear than anything else. I see him zip into the woods, followed rapidly by Alea who is still screaming like a crazy person.

I'm quick on her heels and since I'm much faster than her I pass her without much effort. Sprinting through the trees, it takes me only a minute to catch up with District 12. He's running and huffing like there's no tommorow. I pounce at him, sending him crashing to the ground. My hands fumble for his neck while I grapple to keep my knife. I hope I stashed some in my clothing. We end up rolling down a steep hill, trying to cling onto one another as we spin around and around, plummetting downwards. When we land, it's him that ends up on the bottom.

His blond hair looked like a lightning bolt zapped him and his eyes were ridiculously wide with fear. I don't think I'm that scary. Then again, I have got veins stuck in between my teeth.

I take a moment to regain my breath before I lean into him, my face teasing and my teeth barred. "Hey Lover Boy..." I breathe, blood from my mouth dripping onto his pale face. I hear the sound of four pairs of feet skidding to a halt. Nobody wants to come down the hill. Alea debates it for a second, but then abandons the idea. I'm already down here anyway.

"For God's sake Clove, are you going to kiss him or kill him!" she screams, still angry about Posidian. I hear Marvel guffaw at that until Cato elbows him in the ribs. Turning my attention back to Lover Boy, I take the knife I've been holding and place it to his neck. No need to drag this out for any longer.

"Nighty night Lover Boy..." I whisper, beginning to press the blade in. I can hear Alea laughing as Glimmer and Marvel exchange glances. Cato just stares at me, smiling. Then, suddenly:

"Stop!" The sound comes form Lover Boy as he cowers beneath me. "Please, no! Don't kill me!"

Begging for his life. How pitiful. Now _this _is how district twelve should be. Weak, spineless, and totally at my mercy. "And why shouldn't I?" I tease. I see he sees how blood stained my teeth are, and gulps.

"Because... because I can help you find Katniss!" he yells. I don't believe him. He loves her, I can tell. She doesn't love him back, it's obvious by the way she acts around him, but he loves her. Desperately and with all his heart. He'd never harm her. He's _lying_.

Don't fuck with me 12!" I hiss. "You wouldn't raise a finger against..." But I'm interrupted by Cato's footsteps thundering down the hill. He slides to a halt next to me, his face right next to Lover Boy's. My heart stops.

"Katniss?" he asks. He's usually no good with names, but I know he remembers her. 12 nods, straining away from Cato. He's no need to have fear of him though. He's convinced him."Well, well Lover Boy, hasn't someone had a change of heart. Clove, get off him. He's coming with us."

I look up at him. He can't be serious. "What'd you mean he's coming with us!" I shriek. Alea hears me cry, and starts too.

"Cato, what are you doing! Just kill him!" I know she's regretting not coming down herself, but there's no way she could finish him off now Cato's down here. If he wants him alive, that's how he's staying.

"No! We want Fire Girls head on a platter, and he's going to help us find him! Besides, he's pretty handy with that knife, wouldn't you say Alea." Alea looks like she's just been sucker-punched in the back of the head. Her face pales and her eyes fill with betrayal and hatred.

"You're sick." she spits. By this time, Cato's already back up the hill. He leans into her face.

"I'm just playing the game Alea." he says. She thinks he's being sarcastic and mean. I think he's being truthful. "Come on. We're moving on!" I'm still sitting with Lover Boy at the bottom of the hill. He gets up and surprisingly offers me a hand. Gingerly I take it, using him to yank my body off the ground. I straighten myself up, but as soon as I put weight on my right foot, a pain shoots though my whole leg.

I stumble, if only for a second, but it's long enough for Cato to notice.

"Clove?" Glimmer, Marvel and Alea all pause. They stare down at me leaning against a tree as I check my ankle. Not broken, defiantly not broken please. Just sprained, I tell myself. Just sprained. "Clove are you alright?" I peek up to find myself staring right at Cato. He's actually just come all the way back down that hill to check on me. Way to go Cato, make us both look weak. Have a bloody cookie. Idiot.

"Fine." I huff. I try to prove my point by standing up properly, but my ankle just gives way, causing me to fall again. Cato catches my arm, holding me up.

"Or not." he says. I grumble as he tries to re balance me. I try to shake him away, from his touch.

"It's just a sprain." I mutter.

"Well, you're not getting back up that hill with a sprained ankle." A horrible thought flashes through my mind. A thought of either, A, Cato leaving me here to die, or, B, finishing me now to save me the pain. Instead, he sweeps me up of the ground rather like he did when I was stuck on the Chariot.

I'm about to yell at him to put me down, that I don't need his help, when I see Glimmer's face scrunched up in vile jealousy, and for once in her pretty little life she actually looks ugly. For this reason, and this reason alone, I let Cato carry me to the top of the hill. The warmth I feel when I'm encased in his arms and the protection I feel it grants me to have him close has absolutely nothing to do with it. Because that would be weak. And I'm not weak.

He places me down when we get to the top, but he's still not content to let me walk on my own. Snatching a knife form my belt, where I stare at him for even allowing himself to touch me, he scales a nearby tree, sawing though a thick branch a few times before snapping it clean off. He hands it too me. He forces his voice to sound annoyed, as he thrusts the branch into my hand.

"Here. Use it as a cane. Try and keep up." I hiss.

"Don't you _dare _try and baby me Cato!"

"Well guess what sweetheart! You need it! Oh and nice make up." I grimace as Cato shoves the rough tree into my hand and stares at my face.

"Puh-lease!" Glimmer's whiny voice pierces the awkward silence."What did you do? Did you aim a knife so badly that the blood sprayed into your face?" Her voice annoys the hell out of me. On top of that she insulted my knife throwing skills.

"What did you say? I don't remeber you killing anyone today!" I shrieked, I'm just as ready to stand one legged and use this makeshift cane to cave her thick head in.

I haven't realized I was talking out loud until she complained to Cato.

"Cato! Tell her something! Did you hear what she said to me?" Cato looked down at her. To my horror she had her long arms around his muscular waist.

I must have gasped and started to fall because my right foot shot out before me out of habit. A pain shot through me and I swore so loudly Lover Boy filched as he came near us with his hands held back by Alea. She looked as if she could spit on him. I wouldn't put it past her. Her eyes were so angry I was expecting them to actually start turning red sometime soon. Marvel pushed the Lover Boy forward with the butt of his spear.

After I regained my composure and tried to ignore the plain fact that Cato was trying to get me jealous with Glimmer. Again.

I smiled and simply said: "No, Glimmer, I actually ripped someone's throat out with my bare teeth. Isn't that _fun_?" I bared my blood stained incisors proudly as she shied away from me, toying with Cato's hand.

I can hear Enobaria laughing it up in the Capitol. I imagine her bared her own set of teeth at Gloss, who is mentoring Glimmer this year, while his sister, Cashmere, has a break after six years of dealing with the prissy airheads from district one. She'll be doing the same to those druggies from 6, teasing them due to the death of their tributes.

"Do you think I should wash my face, or leave it?" I ask a zoned out Marvel with the spear ready in his arm. He ignores me, continued to stare off into the distance.

"MARVEL!" I scream to get his attention.

Marvel spazzes out, and threw the spear at me out of sheer reflex. I would have easily dodged it, but I like the reaction on Cato's face as Glimmer is dragging him away to the Cornucopia. The spear caught my right palm, which caused a semi-deep gash.

"Marvel!" I shriek, and put enough pressure on my right foot to make it look plausible. I topple over, planning to hit the ground, and to see Cato leave Glimmer stranded in the cave. Two can play at this game Glimmer. Since when have I stopped trying to make Cato jealous and started to try to make Glimmer jealous? Since when did I start to want to make Cato jealous again?

I look over to try to find Cato as I finally give my last stumble. Marvel jumps around panicking, even shoving Lover Boy in front of him for him to try to save me first. As soon as Lover Boy is a centimeter away from touching me someone grabbed me from his grasp. The person makes me lean into their broad, broad chest and carried me to the Cornucopia.

"Cato! Bu-but... I injured my ankle too!" Glimmer cried, trying to win his attention back. Pathetic.

"That's great Glimmer, but I have more important matters right now." Cato jogs through the organized maze, grabbing a first aid kit from the huge stash that have been left and pulls out a long bandage.

Rolling it out, he begins to pull up my trouser leg. All of a sudden my mind snaps back to the bracelet around my ankle. I yank my foot back.

"It's fine!" I snap. "I don't need you help! Go bandage Glimmer, she obviously wants you too!" Cato just grabs my shin and forces my leg back down. Stupid strong bastard. I squirm around under his grasp, but he's too strong. "Cato! Let go!"

I shout and yell and kick and hit as Cato just sighs. "You finished?" he asks, when after five minutes of resistance I flop down in defeat.

"Whatever." I grumble. Maybe when he rolls to trouser up the bracelet will be forced up with it. But it's not my day today. As soon as the fabric of my tracksuit bottoms slides past my ankle, the small silver piece of jewelery begins to glitter in the sunlight. Cato slips his fingers under it, studying it in disbelief.

"I didn't think you'd wear it." he whispers. I stare him down.

"I said I would. And unlike some people, what I said in the Capitol wasn't just a pack of lies!"

"You never said. You just took it." Leave it to Cato to avoid the actual point of my statement.

"Here then, have it back." I say, unclipping it before he can stop me. "Your sister will be disappointed not to see you wearing it."

He shakes his head. "No. That'll leave you tokenless." I shrug.

"So? You're tokenless now, right?" Cato looks away slightly. Then he takes a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.

I stare at it, mouthing the words as they flood my head.

_ Why are you ignroing me? You definatly weren't ignoring me last night._

"Why?" I ask.

"They say to take something to remind you of home. This reminds me of you. and you remind me of home." Does this kid have multiple personality disorder or something? One minute he's this blood thirsty murder machine, who flirts with anything with a pulse, then he's some sappy, sentimental idiot, who seems to have some kind of physical and mental attachment to me. I don't know which one I hate more.

I didn't want to look him in the eye. Not after a few days ago, not after what he's just said. I reach the bracelet to my other ankle and just lean back against the cold metal of the huge horn.

"I can do this myself you know!" I mumble as Cato smeared a firth layer of medicine on my ankle.

No you can't" I try to argue with him, but he's not budging.

"Isn't your _girlfriend_ in pain right now?" I snarl, part of it being a female dog and part of it to hurt him from the pain he's cauing me right now.

"She's not my girlfriend Clove." Cato says whist looking into my eyes from below. He's taking a ridiculously long time to bandge my foot. I can't help but think he might be stalling.

"Then what is she Cato, a _plaything?_" No one could detect the under tone to my question. I stare into his deep blue eyes as he stands up, finally finished

"She's not a plaything... not yet anyway." Glimmer stands, trying to throw a spear at a shrub while Marvel dictated to her. He's directing her like he did to me. Even worse. It's one thing when she wants one guy, it's another thing if she wants two. Next thing you know her and Lover Boy will go at it at night.

Speak of the devil, 12 was standing around, a knife in his hand, whittling away at some branch. I guess he's thinking about Fire Girl of whatever. It's ok, those two idiots will be together soon enough. Together, burning in hell.

"Am I?" I ask finding a new, short knife that looks very much like a cleaver, I shove it inside my jacket, which has very handy had pockets installed to keep my knives in. I must thank Rox or Jerique for that when I get out.

Cato looked at me, picking up a short sword and a spear. He's never going to be able to carry all this.

"I don't know? Are you?" I shake my head. Never in a million years. "Then that answers that question doesn't it? Use this to get to Lover Boy, I told him to make a cane." I'm glad my mouth is shut, otherwise I would have bit down on my tongue.

"Hey Lover Boy!" I scream to get him to come over. I won't use anything that Cato gives me.

"I said go to him and get the damn cane! Don't defiey me! " Cato could easily kill me now. But I'm too weak to kill.

"I don't take help from those who say I defiey them." This takes a sting in his heart. Cato sucks on a short burst of air. He's the one who lied to me. The person who hated the capitol isn't the one here, right now playing the games.

" I. Don't. Care. Just go outside. We are going to hunt, Marvel found a fire and it looks like that idiot isn't moving."

I scoff, sling my pack, and wrap a belt of knives around my waist, my jacket is full, and use his hand to walk into the moonlight.

Let the Games begin for real.


	8. Chapter 8

** R&R? Please! :D So I felt like wanting to rip my heart out at the end of this chapter. So ugh, ANYWAY read ! **

"Could you walk faster Glimmer? I'm crippled and I still walk faster then you!" I cry into the night. We have been traveling for hours now with the thick bushy foliage closing in on us like a choke hold.

Glimmer bobbed her blond hair at the front with Cato, Marvel and Alea took the middle, Marvel still disgusted with the thick slimy chunks of brain and flesh embedded in her wood colored hair, that she just didn't seem to have any care about removing. She didn't seem to have any care about anything. Except glaring at Lover Boy, who joined me, walking at the back. I don't see any sense in putting us in the back. I'm more than ready to jump a person, ten times more likely to be successful than Glimmer is too, despite my foot.

A sting of a feeling I cannot name rushes through me, I still feel Cato's fingers genitally rubbing some medicine at my swollen ankle, trying not to look at the bracelet he gave me. This wasn't my token anyway.

"Not you don't! At least I don't have anything helping me walk!" Glimmer reacted, her voice so loud you could probably hear her from a mile away. Shut up, your scaring the tributes away stupid!

"And Cato holding your hand doesn't count as just that?" I demanded while the very man in question dragged his palm from hers once again as he stepped over a log. We could here another crack of an ember popping from the fire.

The whole entire time we trekked downwards Glimmer tried to link her hands with his. It disgusted me and frankly I did everything to stop it. I don't see how the idiots even fell for my spontaneously stumbling, but it did make Cato drop Glimmer's hand and offer to carry me for a section of the time. In reality, I probably need carrying, the rocks are becoming more prominent by the minute, and I think putting pressure on it might just make it worse. But I'll be damned if I'm going to admit defeat.

So, I constantly brush him off, often ignoring him, instead shooting comments to a bruised Lover Boy to move faster or else _he'll_ be the one tripping. Lover Boy just looked back at me, his puffed up lip in some kind of swollen mess. He's beat up pretty bad, bruises litter his face and arms and he's got blood all over one sleeve. I can't tell if it's his own or not, but the badly applied bandage suggests that it is.

It's a few minutes later when I actually fall. We're picking up the pace, jogging down the lush valley when out of no where a small, lumpy rock catches onto my foot, tripping me. I can't put my right arm out to save me, because that would cause more pain, and my left now holds this stupid cane.

Instead I just scrunch into a small ball, and hurl towards the thick forest. Actually, it's kind of fun, despite the branches whipping me in the face, and the fact that I have to, of course, hit ever single rock on the way down. When I finally stop tumbling, I have scratches all over my cheeks. Fabulous.

Marvel rushes down first, he's the fastest (next to me anyway), howling with laughter, his derpy mouth smiling. Alea soon after arrived, the mace in her hand creating a path as she ran, ripping everything from it's bare roots.

"Clove!" Her voice seemed disjointed. Marvel started laughing, pointing at my face. Great.

"What are you laughing at Marvel?" I asked, picking leaves off of my clothing and twigs in my hair.

"Yo-our face! You have whiskers now." Cato arrives and shoves a shocked Marvel to the side. It seems like he has a small medical-aid pouch in his jacket or pack, because he's got some kind of ointment or cream encased in his hand. Of course. He'd couldn't just let this lie for once!

"What hurts." He demanded. I groan inwardly. Why does he constantly try to baby me? It's extremely hard to follow Enobaria's advice when he is instant on being next to me every second!

"Nothing is wrong! I feel fine" Lover Boy comes up with my cane and looks at Cato. He shakes his head, and Lover Boy hands it Cato, who just holds it in his hands.

What? He's not giving it back?

"I want my cane back!" I hiss, staring at Cato behind trickles of blood that seep down my face. I realize Glimmer has come down, gasping and failing her arms around. As if she cares. Stupid, idiotic little...

"I'm not giving it back until you tell me what hurts" Cato replies sternly, breaking me out of my thought. He grasps onto the small cane till his knuckles turn white. Alea and Glimmer stand behind him. What does he have now? A _posse? _Apparently so because Marvel isn't too far back himself, he's scared of Cato in a respectful kinda way, and Lover Boy hangs around him, because he's just plain terrified.

I could literally laugh out loud. It's so similar to the boys at home that worship Cato. I wonder how they look up at the screen back home, paralyzed with horror. Maybe they even wish he won't come back?

"What are you laughing at?" Glimmer snickers, her face getting uglier by the minute.

I snap back.

"Nothing for you to know." I turn my attention back to a looming Cato. His metallic sword is dragging on the ground as he stomps furiously to me.

"Damn it Clove! I don't have times for your silly games!" Cato's face turns scarlet as he screams into my ear. I tried to put my arms in front of my face but Cato just grabbed them and forced them onto my lap, making him stare dead on.

"Do you not understand Clove? I lost one person today! I don't need to loose another!" Cato extends a long, strong arm to me. "Now, tell me what's wrong and I'll give you your cane back." he says, his voice becoming a bit more passionate.

"I tripped and fell" I gulped.

Glimmer murmured into the background. "Well obviously!"

I shot a stern look in her direction.

"And I think I twisted my ankle more, I got a few scratches" I pointed the new blood oozing out of my face. "And that's just it. Please Cato, let me get up." I pleaded my voice becoming very cracked. I wanted to go kill the damn tribute already! I don't want to be looked as a nuisance! These people will try to kill me in the near future.

But he wont let me.

"No Clove, forget it, I'm carrying you." What?

"No!" I refuse to let him baby me like this anymore.

Alea glanced at a annoyed Marvel and Glimmer while Lover Boy looked off into the forest, caring more about something under his nails than what Cato is doing to me.

"Listen here _Clove_, it's either you stop being a damsel in distress and let me finally help you, or I'll let you sit here and die like a fat duck!" Cato growled, his outreached hand shaking with anger. So I have been compared to a princess to a fat duck? That's a new record.

Glimmer let out a laugh so wretched, it sounded like a guttural.

"Fine" I grabbed his meaty paw, yanking myself toward him, trying to hide the very fact my ankle can't move. I think my hand opened up again because as Cato fling ed myself over his shoulder.

I grunted as he picked up my leather pack, a few paces later, hidden behind a broken branch or two. As he swooped down low, It made me almost fall back and I would look more like a fool then I already do. So what my gut instinct told me to do it to steady myself with my right hand. Which make no sense what so ever since my hand is getting worse by the minute.

Cato starts standing up when my hand shoots out, yanks my body closer to him by roping one around his neck. Great.

Now I'm facing the wilderness behind us as Cato shoves me more upward, closer to him. My legs wrap comfortably around his waist and he wraps his arms just below my behind. Great.

"What? Sorry I didn't quite catch that." The girl squawks in fear again form behind Marvel's hand.

"Pluz! Domf kel ee!" she's trying to scream, but it comes out as a disconnected mumble.

"Oh, kill you? Okay!" I taunt as Marvel and Alea pin the girl to the ground. She tries to shake her head, but Alea just jams a foot onto her hair.

I limped over to her side, flashing my blade in the moonlight. What idiot would light a fire in the middle of the night?

I leaned in, my eyes looking flat and lifeless next to the screaming girl.

"I'm going to put on a good show _girl_..." Brutus' words echo in my head. 'Just stab them and get it over with! No fancy shows. The audience won't love you if you're dead'. But he can fuck off. He has no faith in me anyway. I'll give them a show. I'll give them a bloody good one. I'll return home and be Clove Carione - the girl who put on a show.

Maybe the title needs some work, but still, this sneivlling moron beneath my feet is going to meet her end slowly and painfully. Just the way I like it.

The curls around the girl's face are plastered to her cheeks by sweat and tears. She looks pathetic.

"No! Please don't! Please!" She screams. "I'm good at making shelter! Please! I can help, please!" She's choking on her own tears, sobbing like a mess. Her face was scrunched up in pain as I dragged a long knife across her thick collar bone.

"Is that so?" Blood drips from my face, some from myself, other from the bloodbath boy. I've had no time to stop and clean myself yet. I must look terrifying.

She screams again, shrieking in misery. I am hysterical, digging into her neck at certain points, laughing the whole entire time. I bring the blade down from a considerable height, considering just ending right now, but change my mind at the last second and dig it into her shoulder. She screams in pain as I twist it round, enjoying watching the blood flow freely from the open wound.

She's the prey, and I'm the predator. She's the lamb, and I'm the lion. She's the weak, I'm the strong. I feel so powerful, sitting on her chest, playing with her like a piece of meat, which I'm about to...

"Stop!" Lover Boy suddenly cries. We all look up at him, our eyes boring into his skull. He's just interrupted my masterpiece. He coughs, recomposing himself. "Stop. Y-you're taking too long. Just kill her. Get it over with. What makes her special enough to spend so much energy?"

Glances are exchanged as Cato glares at Lover Boy. Then, he hands him his sword.

"Fine." he snaps. "You kill her." I turn to face him.

"What! Come on Cato! She's my kill!" I plead looking hungrily at the girl. I _need _to kill her. "I was just about to slice her neck! Come on Cato!" Glimmer giggles as Cato just drags me off the body. It's a good job I've left my knife in the girl's shoulder, or else it would be in Glimmer's stupid pretty little face by now.

"No. This is Lover Boy's chance to prove himself properly. Go on. End it." Cato's tone is taunting. He doesn't think Lover Boy can do it. His sword is still hanging in his hand, waiting to be snatched and plunged into the whimpering girl's body, who's eyes were rapidly darting around, looking for a place to run, thinking about making a beeline towards a tree. Perhaps I should let her. The thrill of the chase would be extraordinary.

The fire around us crackled with glee as it tasted our vicious personalities. We watched as Lover Boy struggles with himself, reaching out for Cato's blade, then pulling back. Cato groans.

"Weak." he spits. "Go on, leave! Before I kill you myself. Clove, finish her off. Then maybe we'll track down Miss Everdeen..."

Before I can even take a step back towards my victim, Lover Boy has taken the sword from Cato and is clutching it too his body.

"No!" he cries. "I'll kill her." I can't help but make a noise of annoyance and despair. Why is Lover Boy trying to prove himself! Stupid elf! We're gong to kill I'm and his little girlfriend sooner or later anyway!

Cato senses I'm going to complain before I do. "Let him Clove, he needs to show us he can actually be useful."

I want to whine, but I keep my mouth shut. Like I'll ever be able to change his mind. He's as stubborn as a mule.

"Lover Boy, kill her. Alea, Marvel, go carry on down the hill, I thought I heard someone moving down there." Cato demanded, leaving out me and Glimmer of the equation.

"But-but.. what about me!" Glimmer wails, basically throwing herself at Cato. He side-steps in an attempt to escape her, but her arms still slink their way around his shoulder.

"You go with them." he snaps. "Clove, come here, I'll carry you down the rest of the way." What? I want my cane back.

"Hey! Where's my cane!" I growl on the verge of just throwing myself down the hill to avoid being picked up again. Cato doesn't answer. He just picks me up and jogs down the hill. I can see Marvel running down, a smile plastered across his face.

"Twelve down eleven to go!" he howls, getting an appreciative hoot form all of us in reply. He stops in a small clearing, and we all crowd around him. Alea, however, seems unconvinced.

"Shouldn't we have heard canon by now?" she spits. Cato nods in agreement.

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately." I spy Lover Boy coming down the hill, blood covering the blade. He looks destroyed.

"Unless she isn't dead." I hiss, as he draws up to us.

"She's dead, I stuck her myself!" He defends, trying to look tough and proud.

"Then where's the canon?" asks Alea. "Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done." She's got about as much faith in Lover Boy as me. If she wasn't so moody, perhaps we could bond. Until, of course, I had to kill her.

"Yeah, we don't want to have to track her down twice." If Cato hadn't got such a strong grip on me, I would have fallen off his back. Glimmer actually said something slightly intelligent.

"I said she's dead!" Lover Boy yelled.

"We obviously not, or else we'd hear a canon!" I shoot back. An argument breaks out between us all

"We're wasting time!" shouts Lover Boy suddenly. That's rich, since it's him we're all arguing with. "I'll go finish her, and let's move on!" It becomes obvious to us all that he knows he hasn't killed the girl.

"Go on then Lover Boy! See for yourself!" Cato snaps. See for yourself? See what? His own failure? Cato's speaking as if he was the idiot who left the girl alive.

We all watch as he traces back up the hill. If he'd have just had the guts to do it first time, we could have found another victim. Or at least be back at the camp we'd set up by the Cornucopia.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" Alea complains. She's desperate for his blood. I watch her fingers twitch on that mace of hers.

Cato glares at her. "Let him tag along, what's the harm? And he's handy with that knife." That shuts up the girl from 4. She stares at Cato with those hazel orbs of hers, and they fill with venom. She won't be in this alliance much longer. She'll either betray us, or die. I decide never to sleep when she's on watch.

"Besides, he's our best chance of finding her." It registers instantly that her means Katniss. Katniss, that stole our glory. Katniss, that my stylist helped. Katniss, that beat us in training by the skin of her teeth. Katniss, who we all want to end.

"Why?" asks Marvel. "You think she brought into that sappy romance stuff?" Marvel's an idiot if he can't see that Lover Boy actually _is _in love.

"She might have. She seemed pretty simple minded to me." I don't believe it. Are all males missing some kind of brain cell that tells them who's in love? _Imbeciles!_

But, sitting up here on Cato's shoulders, I better not insult him. I'm not being funny, but it's a hell of a long way down. "Every time I think of her spinning around in that dress I want to puke." Everyone groans as we remember her interview. I wanted to jump on the stage and kill her right there and then.

"Wish we knew how she got that eleven." muses Glimmer. I wish I knew how you got that eight, I almost snap.

"Bet you Lover Boy knows." says Marvel, indicating to us that 12 s coming back down the hill.

"Was she dead?" Cato hisses. Lover Boy looks up, then hangs his head in shame.

"No... but she is now." Lover Boy hands the sword back to Cato. It's almost still clean, and I believe that he has actually been up _twice _and still not killed her, but then the canon fires.

"Ready to move on?" he asks. We all nod, heading off at a run as dawn breaks. I'm still in Cato's arms and I'm shivering in the early morning cold. We decide to go back to camp, to talk about our startergy. It's taken us a full night to kill one stupid little girl, we need to re-think our plans.

o.O.o

A day passes with nothing happening. A day full of nothing but sitting around. A day wasted. Not entriley wasted, perhaps, Marvel and Cato have been organizing the supplies, sorting them into piles of weapons, food, and first aid. There are another few items scattered around the camp. but most fit roughly into these three areas.

They have also found three tents, one for each district. Well, that was the plan originally, until it was discovered that Alea would have to sleep with Lover Boy. So then, Cato made Glimmer swap with 12, leaving Marvel and him in one tent, Glimmer and Alea in another, and me and Cato together, much to mine (and Glimmer's) displeasure.

I spent the day cooped up inside said tent, my foot balanced above me on a stack of unclaimed backpacks, stuffed with leaves. It was rather annoying, but I can bend it now.

By the time evening comes, I have managed to walk over to the center of the camp with little to no problems. Glimmer sits on a log, with her foot stretched out. I glare at her as she complains.

"Cato! Cato!" Glimmer yelps around the camp frowning at her now naked foot. It was a mere scratch. A mere, simple scratch that a plant did. And she's really freaking out about that?

"What?" says a tired Cato, his blond hair splattered with blood. He's sitting next to Marvel, who is burning things in the fire, laughing as they go up in flames. He's such a child.

"My foot hurts! Fix it!" Glimmer whines, sitting by the fire, her face plastered with mud. Mud I saw her apply herself.

Cato grumbles something incoherent, waving a dismissive arm out to her. He gets up to grab an apple from the pile of food crates and sits back down next to me. I don't look at him. Not with how he's treating me lately.

So instead of starting a conversation I take my cane, shuffle the embers and slowly manage to sit up. My mind is still on the death of District Eight. We found out her district during the death re-cap. She was the only one apart from the bloodbathians who died.

I bring it up, only to regret it when Glimmer opens her annoying little mouth.

"Oh no!" whines Glimmer, spinning round to face Cato. "Please don't kill me!" Marvel rolls his eyes at the blond female.

No, no it was more like this: No! No! No! I'll help you, honest! I'm good with my hands, can make you shelter! Please!" His voice raised an octave as he mocked the girl I'd cut up. Lover Boy sits and stares at them, his lips pursed. He's feeling guilty. He needs to get over it. I decide to torture him more.

"Do the face Marvel!" I say. Marvel grins, before turning to me, his face screwed up in a comical fashion, his tongue out, eyes clamped shut and hands up by his head.

I burst out laughing. It's only partially fake, because s face is rather humorous. Glimmer and Cato fall about in hysterics. I doubt it's Marvel's face. Death just appealed to us. Knowing that we'd had the power to end someone's life gave us a high that nothing else could. Even better if they squirmed. Which she defiantly had. Until Lover Boy spoiled the fun.

The only thing that stops us laughing is the sound of a mace hitting metal. We all swivel round to see Alea beating the crap out of the Cornucopia. She hits it a few times with one, then changes to another.

This must remind Cato that we are actually in here to fight, not to sit around, and he instantly points to my belt.

"How many knives?"

Surprised, I shrug my shoulders while wrapping my jacket around me tighter. It's starting to get chilly.

"I'm not sure, I have to count tomorrow" A cool breeze rolls in and a now sleepy Glimmer yanks a large sleeping bag from her tent. She should be sleeping inside it really, it's what it's there for, but she seems determined to get in a certain someone's pants.

"Cato, will you sleep with me? I'm scared." Cato seemed annoyed with her too beacuase he didn't even bother to sugar-coat his response.

"I don't care, these are the games, you're supposed to be scared. Ask Marvel or something, I find it weird sharing a sleeping bag with a girl that I barely know." Cato growls.

Glimmer fakes a whimper and turned away in defiance, faking shivering while her blond hair spread across the ground. Get in the tent then stupid!

"There's twenty seven." I say, referring to my knives, which are now spread on the floor. I felt like sleeping but I couldn't even reach my cane to stand up. Like I said, I'm healing but slowly.

I watch Lover Boy go into his own tent to retrieve a sleeping bag. Seems like we're all camping outside tonight. He looks like he's limping, but who knows.

The trail of my eyes causes Cato to stand up.

"What are you doing Cato?" Cato looked insane, taking of his jacket in this temperature, revealing his muscles in the moonlight.

"Where's your shirt?" I asked, trying not to look at his body.

"Your wearing it." I haven't noticed. But as soon as I looked down at my body I seen a oversized shirt hanging loosely. Oversized is a very, very loose term. It looks like I'm drowning in a pool of black. My slender body can fit in it about five times and have space still left over.

"Why?" I asked, as he clambered inside our own tent. I can't remember taking it off him. "And Cato, what are you doing?"

"Well, for the first one, Clove, you were complaining how cold it was while I _carried _you. So I gave you my shirt. And secondly..." Cato's eyes traveled down my body hungrily.

"I'm getting you a sleeping bag so you'll stop shaking." I haven't noticed it before, but I am shaking. Well, it _is _only about two degrees Celsius.

I barely have time to protest when Cato throws his huge jacket at me. I can barely grab it, but I yank it on my shivering body. What are the Game-makers trying to do? Freeze us all on the second night?

When I finally zip up his jacket around me (where I am yet again drowning and tried to bunch up some fabric around my stomach) Cato comes back with a small, thin, green sleeping bag.

"Where's yours?" I ask, not running into the bag fast enough.

"Funny thing, we had three tents, and only five sleeping bags. Other tributes must have took the rest, I'll share with you. Now, move over." What! No! This bag even seems small for even me alone!

"But!" I protest.

"But what?" Why must his muscles look so chiseled in the moonlight.

I glare at him as he shakes his hands defensively.

"Hey! I picked this bag because of survivor 101. Body heat." Of course. Of course that's the reason. He would play such a dirty trick now wouldn't he?

"Go to Glimmer or something, she'll need it, I already have your jacket." I filled those words with hatred and spite. I didn't want him too go to sleep with her but what can I do?

"Fine" Cato's jaw stiffens and he trot's his way to Glimmer's ginormous sleeping bag. It's huge, it's got to be made for more than one person anyway.

"You get second watch , Marvel gets first." I hear the coldness in his voice. He doesn't like being told no.

"Okay" I say stiffly as I slink back to watch him wrap his hands around a smug Glimmer. Crap, what have I done?

I turn my back from him and swallow. No one has died today. What a total waste. I just keep thinking about our one kill as I drift off to sleep...

o.O.o

" Wake up!" I heard a whisper. Marvel. Great. I woke myself up from my nightmare only to live in a new one.

"Finally, wake up Cato or Alea later." Marvel said, his eyes dropping.

"Alright." I studder. I can't even remember Alea going to sleep. Peering around, I realize she must be the only one actually in a tent. Clever girl, it's freezing. Cato was right.

I watched Marvel stomp into a tent as well, and his snores are sounding in seconds. It's a good job he's not on his own, that racket would get him killed in an instant. The sleeping bag he drags in with him is almost as big as Glimmers. I hiss.

What? Just beacuase people are from one doesn't mean they get the best things you know! I tried to sit up, but I figured out I couldn't. Cato was right. If it weren't for Marvel waking me up and this jacket, I think I would have just about froze to death in my sleep. I'm about to walk over to Cato when I heard two hushed whispers.

One from Glimmer, one from Cato.

"So you like me more?" She said, twirling her hair in the moonlight. That ho.

"I can't say. Convince me." Cato flirted back. That bastard, how can he be the same person! He's faking it to me. He must be. He wants me to let my guard down, for me to fall. Then, he'll kill me.

"I will." she whispers seductively. "But was that me you were talking about in the interview?"

"Think about it while you go to sleep." Cato said, wrapping an arm around her hourglass shape.

I feel like barfing and crying right now. Maybe I'll just be sick on her, to get rid of that smug look.

Glimmer said something, then turned ready to go to sleep. I can't believe this! How could he! I watch as they both curl up together, Glimmer with her head tucked into Cato's chest. It's so strikingly similar to the way I slept with him that night in the Capitol, and I feel like I've been hit in the gut with some kind of ax or spear.

Glimmer sees my face and winks at me over Cato's shoulder. She snuggles even closer, letting out a contented sigh. I attack the fire with my good foot just to stop myself from attacking her. It's only about ten minutes later when I hear her breathing shallow and know she's asleep.

Then, Cato shoves her away, pushing himself against the other side of the sleeping bag. He shoots me a pained look, before closing his own blue eyes and falling asleep himself.


	9. Chapter 9

** I can't belive how many reviews we got yesterday... so heres a treat it wasnt supposed to be out until a few days but... ya keep up the reviews and you'll get more chapters fast ~ w&c**

I decide to wake Cato. Glimmer is too stupid to keep watch, Marvel's already done it, and neither Lover Boy or Alea can be trusted. My plan is to just kick him in the ribs, tell him to get up, jump into my sleeping bag and pretend to be asleep, just so I can make sure he does actually get up. Otherwise, we're sitting ducks out here.

Jogging over to where Glimmer and Cato lie sound asleep, at opposite ends of the sleeping bag I can't stop my fingers running along the blade of one of my curved knives. How easy it would be to slit her throat right now. All night, I've noticed she has been trying to press herself back up against Cato and every time he's been pushing her away. Jesus, even when they're both unconscious she manages to annoy him I smile at that.

"Cato!" I say, giving him a quick prod with my foot. "Cato! Get up idoit, it's your watch!" He grumbles in his sleep, flipping over but not waking up. "Cato!" I dig him harshly in the rib with my foot and he shoots up. I hold back a wince as a sharp pain extends up my leg. Yeah, that was pretty stupid.

"Shit!" Everyone in the camp gives a quick stir, and for a moment I think he's woken them all up, but then they all settle back down. Cato's head whips around and his face pales when he realises he's defenseless.

"Cato, you imbecile, it's me!" I snap in a hushed tone, rubbing my ankle. It was so close to getting better!

"Clove! For god sakes, be a bit more gentle next time!" I nod.

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll try to keep that in my mind" I add dryly as I flop back down on my sleeping bag, assessing the damage I've done. "It's fine!" I snap, before Cato can say anything. "Would have been better if you'd have just got up though."

Now it's his turn to apologise. "Sorry." he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He crawls out of the sleeping bag he was sharing with Glimmer and comes over to sit by me. So much for waking him up and having it done with.

"You want you jacket back?" I offer I would rather keep it but I don't want his help. "It's cold." He shakes his head.

"No, it's starting to get warmer now." That's a lie. If anything, it's colder than when we went to sleep, but I shrug it off.

"Fine. But don't expect to be crawling into bed with me again anytime soon." I mentally curse myself for adding the 'again'. Nobody knew! Expect me, Cato, Enobaria, Brutus, Tatana, Rox, probably Jerique, maybe mine and Cato's prep team, ok, perhaps a few people knew, but now the whole of Panem does.

"Wouldn't dream of it Clove." he teases, leaning back against the log. His blue eyes sparkle playfully. "Wouldn't dream of it."

...

We're storming through the arena at a much faster pace than yesterday with a dealy focus. Alea takes the front, clearing out any bushes and shrubbery that are in our way with long strikes from the ax she is now wielding. Glimmer pads along behind her, having to occasionally dodge when Alea 'accidentally' swings the blade of the ax round too far. Marvel and Lover Boy trek in the middle, Marvel's spear ready to be thrown at any second. Cato's at the back, his sword in his hand, and he swings it around in anticipation, waiting for the moment when he can slice it through someone's unexpecting body.

My ankle is fine after last night's set-back in it's healing, though when the hills get exceptionally steep I sometimes have to have a hand to help me up. I refuse to take this hand from Cato though, mostly taking it off Lover Boy, using him as a kind of personal slave. Cato isn't very cheerful at that, but it's all Lover Boy's really here for. That, and to find Fire Girl. That's our plan for today. Find her and take her out, along with anyone else that steps in our way.

We've been out almost all day again, kill-less and it's starting to bug us all. We are walking across a high pathway, trying to work our way up to see if we can spy anyway from the higher levels, when I hear a crack. No one else detects it, but I'm sure I heard someone stepping on a stick. Then, a glint of someone's damp hair, and a flash of an orange backpack.

"I found her!" I practically sing, and start racing down the hill. I hear Cato call for me to go back, and Marvel ask what the heck is going on, but I carry on running after the orange. What a stupid colour to make a pack. Stupid for Fire Girl, not for me, with it's brightness I can easily trace it through the winding trees, even though she's tried to cover it up a bit with some mud and leaves. It didn't work very well for her now did it?

She looks back with her eyes wide and sees I'm on her heels, if limping slightly. She lengthens her strides and I speed up behind her, determined not too lose sight. We break into a tiny clearing, only about ten feet wide, at the most. I pull out one of my knives as she stops to consider her options. As she stops, if see the various burns littering her skin, one extremely bad looking one one her leg. There must have been a fire somewhere in the arena to try and liven the Games up a bit. Well, they're about to get some real action.

"End of the line, District 12." I say to myself, or maybe to the camera's. I'm not sure, nothing private anyway in the Hunger Games. Just as the knife is about to leave my hand, Fire Girl grapples up a branch of the larger trees. She continues, hopping up like a little bunny. I stop, not wanting to break my 'never miss' reputation. She's only about twenty feet up when the others come through.

"Clove!" yells Cato, as the other lean on their knees to catch their breath. "What the fuck! You can't just run off, you'll..." His voice cuts off when he follows my finger to look into the tree. Fire Girl sits, looking rather amused at our little conversation. She won't be so amused in a minute when she's lying on the floor, being tortured. The only thing she'll hear about 'fire' again is her canon.

The others have seen her too, and we surround the tree in a small semi-circle, apart from Lover Boy, who stays as far away as the clearing allows. She peers down at us, her face at first fearful. She knows it's hopeless. Then, she traces over us. She looks at Cato and Marvel and smiles, gives Glimmer a peek and grins, she stares for longer at Alea, but then nods to herself. Her eyes then bore into me, a look of doubt on her face. She looks me up and down, biting at her lip as if considering something. Then, her gaze falls onto my ankle, she looks at the bandage and stares at my leg, noticing I'm putting less weight on it than the other. Then, she lets out a sigh of relief and her face becomes smug with relief.

"How's everything with you?" she asks, smiling cockily at us. At first, we're all taken aback, how idiotic is she to know we're ten seconds away from killing her and she tries to taunt us? Cato grins back, sauntering forward. Apparently, he's claimed this kill. Whatever, as long as I get Lover Boy afterwords.

"Well enough. Yourself?" Fire Girl seems un-threatened.

"Been a bit warm for my taste." she jokes. Oh, she thinks she's so clever, playing it up the Capitol. Why won't she just die, like a good little District 12 tribute? "The air's better up here, why don't you come on up?"

Cato openly accepts the invitation to kill her. "I think I will."

Glimmer steps forward to join him, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Here, take this Cato." she whines, offering him the bow and quiver. Fire Girl's face is a perfect picture, but I still want to slap that look off Glimmer's face. Since when does Cato use a bow?

"No." he says, pushing the bow and Glimmer roughly away. "I'll do better with my sword." Cato hoists himself up into the tree, using the lowest branch to pull himself up. Even that strains under his weight.

Fire Girl scurries further up the tree as Cato follows her, the branches waning under him more and more as they get thinner and thinner. She's about fifty feet up now, and I realise her plan too late. I go to shout at him to come down, but before the words can even form in my mouth there's a crack and a sharp intake of breath.

Cato comes crashing down, breaking numerous branches, his back colliding with the floor with a huge bang. For a moment, I think he may have broken something vital, but when he scrambles up, growling profanities, I know only his pride is hurt.

Glimmer steps forward, pulling herself into the tree. I laugh as she goes up. She's not fat, but with all those curves she's not the lightest girl in the world. Fire Girl goes even higher, perhaps eight feet up now, and Glimmer follows her. I hope she falls too, but when the branches start to strain, she has the common sense to scale back down the the leafy ground.

She picks up her discarded bow and loads and arrow, somehow managing to be even sloppier than she was as the Cornucopia. I smile along with Fire Girl as it goes burrowing into a tree near 12. Incompetent moron. Fire Girl plucks the silver arrow out, waving it teasingly above our heads. Her face still glows with self-satisfaction, but her eyes glare with lust and longing at the bow clutched in Glimmer's hands. That's her secret. The bow.

Glimmer gives Cato a pathetic stare, and he calls us all in. We crowd around in a circle, faces filled with annoyance.

"She's too high up, we'll never reach her!" moans Glimmer, picking some leaves out of her hair.

"Oh please, if you weren't so incapable at handling your weapon she'd be dead on the floor now!" I growl my voice becoming brutish.

She makes a sound of displeasure in the back of her throat. "You're the smallest of all of us, you'd get up that tree easily! What are you, 100 pounds?" She's not far off, I'm 110 last time I checked. I'm about to tell her fine, that I'll go up the tree if it makes her whiny ass happy, I'll do it, when Cato stops me.

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It. Clove.!" he snarls. I open my mouth to tell him my ankle feels fine, but he anticipates my answer. "Not with the ankle, not if your were not injured!" I huff and cross my arms, but I've recently given up with trying to stop him babying me. He may be going soft, but he's still as headstrong as ever.

Glimmer seems repulsed. "What makes her so special, Cato, You didn't object when I went?" she spits, jealousy covering her face like a sheet.

"Yeah, what's wrong with her going up?" adds Marvel. "She'll get her down easily."

"I said she's not going. And that's final!" We break into our second argument in as many nights, and, yet again, it's Lover Boy who stops us.

"Oh, let her stay up there! It's not like she's going anywhere, we'll deal with her in the morning!" he snaps harshly. Again, it's Cato who partially agrees with him.

"Whatever Lover Boy. Get a fire going, we're making camp."

o.O.o

We've been sitting under this tree for three hours now. It's past the hour of darkness, and the anthem has long since be played. No deaths, again. I'm furious, another day good day wasted, but at least now we have Fire Girl cornered in her small little tree.

Lover Boy won't stop pacing, looking up at his dear beloved, who we have lost somewhere in the tree. I pray to God she's still up there and that this is all worth it. Or she died by tripping and falling. Anything works.

Marvel is eating a packet of crackers we brought along, he's gone through half of them already. Alea (as usual) is practicing her weapon skills on one of the near by saplings, which is now really nothing more than a pile of splintering, dead wood.

Glimmer and Cato sit around our little fire that Lover Boy lit, flirting. Again.

A small green gecko walks past me across the ground. It's small and pathetic, useless to me and all the other Careers. It's presence here it unwanted, we'd be better off without it, it's more of a liability, stalking around our little makeshift camp. Just like Glimmer.

My knife speeds into it's back and it flops to the floor. Dead. I get a faint amount of amusement by imagining it to be that blond bimbo, but the squeak of her voice rips me back to harsh reality. She's still breathing.

"How long do you think she'll stay up there?" she asks, as she sprawls across Cato's lap. From there, he's in excellent position to grab her and snap her neck. He doesn't though, just shoves her off causally and moves along.

Lover Boy shrugs still looking like he got beat up. "I'm not sure. She used to spend a lot of time in the trees at home. My bet is she'll be there at least all night." Glimmer groans. I'm two seconds away from giving her a piece of my mind, but someone else beats me to it.

"Just shut up!" The harsh, screechy tone of Alea's voice takes us all by surprise. I haven't heard her speak in anymore than a monotone drawl since Posidian died. "We've been here for two freaking days and you're already getting on my nerves! You flirt with everything that moves and whine about every little thing and I swear, if you open your prissy little mouth one more fucking time tonight, so help me, you won't have a mouth to open!"

How long has that been boiling up? Alea looks ravenous, as if she could kill Glimmer right this second. That makes two of us. Four, if you count Cato and Fire Girl up in the tree.

"I'm going to sleep. I don't care who takes watch." she snaps, grabbing the smallest sleeping bag out of the rucksack. She curls up in it and lies directly under the tree, as far away form us as possible. I think I hear her sob once she's fully zipped in.

The silence that follows is so thick that I could slice it with one of my flimsy knives. Glimmer looks shocked, her mouth hung open. She snaps it shut when she remembers Alea's threat.

"I'll take watch first." says Cato. "Glimmer, you're getting up in three hours, ok?" Glimmer looks like she might want to object, but she just nods. I am already sitting on the huge sleeping bag, so Glimmer is forced to take one of the smaller ones. Serves her right, Marvel has brought the same one he had last night in his own backpack, it must be warm because he takes his jacket off and hangs it a outstreched branch before he gets in.

Glimmer was right about one thing - this sleeping bag is cold. It's far too big for one person of her size, let alone mine, the fabric is too spread out to wrap around me like I wish it too and I end up lying so close to the fire I can feel it burning my face. The sleeping bag doesn't let the heat in however, so as my face is scorching my body is shivering in cold, almost frozen. If anything, it keeps the cold in.

"You're kind of pathetic at night Clove." Everyone else is asleep, I can tell because I can hear their soft breaths, and Lover Boy whispering for his precious 'Katniss'.

"I'm not used to the cold!" I snap shaking myself to be more aware of Cato proding the fire with a stick. "Unlike some of the people here I actually live in a house that has heating." It's true, most of the tributes in this arena will be used to the bitter cold. In 2, most of us have proper heating installed, thanks to the Capitol's blatant favouritism.

"So do I, but I'm not shaking like a baby. Come here." Cato gets up from the log he's been sitting on, walking over to me.

"Cato, what are you doing?" I spit out, my eyes trailing him. I gave him his shirt back but it took me ten tries t shove it into his crossed arms. He ignores me and carries on walking. It's only when he puts his hands on the zip of my sleeping bag that I realise what he's intending on doing. "Cato!" I hiss, as he clambers into the bag to join me. "What the hell?"

"I'm not going to sit here and watch you shiver for another night, Clove. It's distracting." I try to object again, but he's already unzipped the bag and shoved himself in. It is instantly warmer when he gets in, propping himself up against a small tree opposite the one Fire Girl is in. His positioning of the bag leaves me little room to lie down on the floor, and I squirm around trying to get comfortable until his arms pull me up almost ontop of him. I freeze, then try to thrash my way free.

"For god sakes Carione, lie still!" He drags me up into my arms and drapes me across his body. I manadge to push myself away from him but he quickly follows my movments, and grabs a hold of my waist. I squirm for another few seconds, then realize it's hopeless. I try to move again but he holds me there, so I just end up giving in. I attmpet to stop myself feeling the same way I did that night in the Capitol, but it's so hard as I drift off not to nestle myself in closer to him, let him run his hands through my hair as he watches out for us all.

Watches out for you, the sentimental, soppy part at the back of my mind whispers. I force that back into the depths, shroud it over again with feelings of sadism and blood-lust. Yet, as my eyes begin to droop I don't have the strength to stop it sneaking it's way back through.

Go on Clover, fall asleep. Fall asleep as he watches over you like a little love-sick puppy.

And so I do.

o.O.o

I'm awoken by an extremely loud scream that makes my ears vibrate. I shoot up out of my sleeping bag (which is now empty, Cato must have left me alone after he woke Glimmer to guard), knife poised within seconds, ready to strike if needed. But what I see can no way be stopped by any blade.

A swarm of angry creatures engulf our makeshift camp under the tree, their fast wings beating, making angry buzzing noises as they flap aggressively. Tracker-Jackers. Seeing their broken nest on the floor, I realise this is no freak accident. We've been set up.

At this point, I can think only one thing.

Run.

Due to her positioning after her outburst at Glimmer last night, they attack Alea first. In the beginning, it's just a few, getting themselves tangled in her hair, stuck in her clothes. Then, by some cruel twist of fate, she gets her foot caught in a root. It only makes her stumble, halting her for mere seconds, but that all the ravenous jackers need.

Hundreds of the things suddenly envelope her body, causing her to screech in fear and pain. Their stingers find their way into every inch of her flesh, piercing the skin over and over again. She staggers off behind the trees, still trying to get away. I know immediately I'll never see her again. At least not alive.

However, we keep running as she moans, too concerned about our own safety to care about her agony. She was useless anyway, broken, distant. Untrustworthy. She's better off dead, I think bitterly. She'll probably be happier anyway.

We're almost out of the tiny clearing when I hear another scream. It's high-pitched, it's annoying, it's overly feminine. It's Glimmer's.

It seems luck has finally decided to side with me. The stupid ho is still wound up in her sleeping bag, which means she must have fallen asleep on guard. It worries me slightly that I've been sleeping un-protected, but then I remember I'm not the one dying here.

Her hands claw at the ground as she tries to drag herself away, however it's too late. The muttations are on her in seconds, swarming her in thousands, treating her the same way as our now dying ally.

Glimmer screams, trying to bat them off with the bow. They are persistent though, ever time she hits them they come back more furious, jamming their stingers into every tiny bit of Glimmer's once oh-so-perfect skin, which is now bloating and tinged a sickly green. She writhes in pain as they tear through the sleeping bag, attacking the lower section of he body too, preventing any movement apart from harsh thrashes on her back. She's stuck like an over tun red turtle.

Through the black and yellow swarm, she manages to lock eyes with my district partner, and her eyes suddenly look hopeful. She's already beginning to swell, her lips now puffed and her sleeping bag just gets tighter by the minute. We're her last hope. I beg that Cato crushes that hope.

"Cato!" she begs. "Cato! Cato, help!" But he doesn't stop. He just grabs me by the arm and keeps on running. At first, I don't want to run with him, I want to stay and watch, watch as her once pretty face bloats up, watch as she gets covered in horrid lumps the size of oranges, watch as she slowly and painfully dies as I stand and laugh. But that would be idiotic. Then I'd just meet the same fate. I turn around, giving Glimmer one last glare.

"I win bitch." I mouth as I sprint off. Glimmer's screams echo, almost drowning out the canon which I can only presume is Alea's. I relish in the sound of her pain. My only regret is she didn't die at my small hands. At least she didn't go peacefully. I almost applaud the gamemakers decision to end in those jackers, but the stingers throbbing in my own body stop me from doing so.

Marvel and Cato are only a few paces in front of me, their footsteps cracking loudly as they run. I hear Lover Boy's footsteps too, but they seem to be heading in another direction. Whatever.

Winding through the trees and foliage, I try not to hit anything too large that would cause me too much harm as I run at full speed in the general direction of our camp. I loose sight of my allies along the way, but I hear no more shrieks of pain, so I guess they're fine.

Breaking out of the forest I see our clearing, our pyramid of supplies, our camp, and most importantly, our water source. I have just enough time to think about how much I hate being in water before I plunge into it's freezing cold clutches.

o.O.o

I drag myself to the edge of the lake, gasping for air. I take to the water like a prissy cat and even probably look like one as I cling to the edges of the bank, nails digging harshly into the moist ground.

Every single fibre in my body aches and the flesh around the burns stings so strongly that I want to scream in pain. But I won't. I just grit my teeth and yank my now dripping body out of the lake.

I don't know if it's the weather or if my body is just reacting to my attack, but I am boiling hot. I'm sweating as I lay down by the lake's edge, throat dry as anything and head pounding in absolute agony. Suddenly my stomach seems to reject every bit of food I have digested in the last day or two. It hurts, but I feel so sick that my body heaves involuntarily, leaving tears streaming from my eyes as I try not to vomit in my hair or on my clothes.

After a few minutes all my food has come up and I'm just spewing up water, and then after that's all gone I just end up dry-retching. Even after I collapse from sheer exhaustion I'm still gagging, the pain in my head even stronger and the errie sun blinding me as I lie breathlessly on my back.

If I was boiling a minute ago, I'm freezing now, my whole body shivering uncontrollably. I try to stand to make it back to camp but my legs cannot support my weight and I just topple back down into a pile of my own sick. Only it's not sick anymore. It's strong acid that burns as fall into it.

Crawling quickly away I back into something hard and smooth and as I spin around I realise it's Cato. My body fills with relief quickly as I grab his arm to help pull myself up off of the ground. But my hand goes straight through him as he disappears in a shroud of black smoke and I fall onto the large rock that shades us from the sun in the day at camp. It's sharp around the bottom and makes a cut in my stomach, severing one of the stings, making it ooze green pus.

The pus pours out, covering the ground around me. Snakes jump out of the thick green liquid spontaniously, biting at my calves and ankles. I scurry out of the way, trying to avoid getting bitten by these unknown creatures. Somewhere along they way I must hit a pothole or dip in the sandy coloured dirt underfoot, because before I know it I'm on the ground again.

The snakes wrap around me, constricting me and stopping my breathing. I take huge, heavy inhalations of thin air, trying to to suffocate as they press down harder and harder. Suddenly, just when I think they've got me, they disappear, streaming back into the emerald puddle.

The puddle bubbles and brews, fizzling and popping as it grows and morphs into a familiar shape. It extends and softens as it molds itself into the exact representation of Glimmer. Glimmer charges at me, jumping onto my chest. I try to kick her, punch her, bite her, flip her over, but everything I throw at her goes through her, just like it did Cato, in a puff of black smoke. But Glimmer doesn't vanish like he did, she just reforms, as stunning and smug as ever.

She leans down and presses her perfect pink lips to my ear.

"Remember Clove." she whispers. "You'll never win." It's the last thing I hear before I see her dazzling green eyes and her arms wrapping around a smug Cato and blackout.

**THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING ! ~ W & C**


	10. Chapter 10

_ **SORRY IT IS SO LATE! I tried but there was so much writers block! It wasn't even funny ! Review and read please! ~ w&c**_

_ Thump._

I feel something tugging at my weak, trembling legs.

_ Thump._

I felt the midnight ravens swoop down as a flock and start tearing at my muscle.

_ Thump._

I felt them rip apart my tight, clenched legs.

_ Thump._

They each pick at a vein, encasing it in their long, narrow beaks, pulling them into so many different directions that they burst, blood coming out in different hue's. Some streams pitch black like the sleek bodies that now are flying away into clouds of ash. Others so scarlet, it looks like molten lava spewed across the horizon.

I gasp, clutching at the searing pain in my stomach, almost drowning myself in my piercing screams. But something beats me to it.

A thick, gelatinous liquid starts to envelope my body, slithering it's way over my ears and nostrils until finally finding it's way into my mouth. I'm forced to chug it down as my body bloats to twice it's normal size. I can't move my arms or even twitch my legs to push myself upwards. I can't breath, but I do manage to force my eyes open; I only see the thick mucus-colored goo of an infection swell in the empty space around me, becoming so congealed that it itself is suffocating. It collapses on top of itself, becoming more and more condensed until I can't heave my chest to allow a single drop of oxygen in my squeezed lungs...

It's the middle of the night when I wake up. At first I don't believe that it's reality, but after five minutes of starting at a stitch in my tent while whimpering at the slightest ruffle outside got, I am convinced.

A thin stream of eerily bright moonlight shines through a crack in the canvas drape, so I know must have been asleep for at least twelve hours. I sit up slowly, but even the slight movement causes me to go giddy and I flop back down again. I realize that I'm lying down, wrapped up in a metallic thermal sleeping bag, my head resting on a cushy pillow, almost totally drenched in tears or sweat. The last thing I remember was stumbling outside by the woods, so someone has definitely moved me here.

I groan as I think of this, because that means someone has seen me weak, laying out cold, and even worse, someone has taken pity on me and dragged me all the way here. It also means I've been sleeping unguarded without my knifes. Again.

It takes another three attempts before I can to sit up, and a further five to actually manage to stand on my bruised legs and now wobbly ankle. I can hear a fire crackling and laughing outside, which means that at least one other person is awake. As I push open the doors of the tent, I see that Marvel and Cato are huddled around the burning fire, Marvel spinning two large, dead rabbits, that we found in the Cornucopia, around over it's harsh glow. Great. I was the last one to come around. But where is Lover Boy?

I try to strut over looking confident to save some attitude face, but my legs won't co-operate like they should and I end up staggering my way over, flopping down next to Marvel. I wince as put my hand down on the floor to steady myself and I realize I must have been stung on the palm. Flipping it over I'm shocked to see that there is a lump, but the stinger has been removed and it's covered in some mossy chewed up leaves. Before can question anyone, Cato speaks up.

"Finally, you're awake." he mumbles, not bothering to look up from the short sword he is sharpening. "Took you long enough. It's been nearly three days."

I feel my face go scarlet. Three days? For a sting? How pathetic. I can't back down though.

"I got stung pretty bad!" I say in my defense. I begin with shouting but my head and throat protest, so I soon quite down to a hushed, raspy whisper. "Besides, I didn't see you lot making it back here after the attack! Where were you?" Good, I think. Turn my weakness into accusation. Too bad Cato has a perfectly good explanation for me to get anything out of it.

"I went back to find Glimmer and Alea. When we got there they were both dead." he says, without a hint of remorse. Wait, what?

"Fire Girl was there though, prying the bow from Glimmer's dead body." I hear Marvel spit into the flames, startling a bird in the trees. I almost blackout again. Glimmers dead. It's all clear again now. Her writhing in agony, not being able to get away. This should make me happy, elated, even. But it doesn't. It just fuels my anger for Fire Girl. She was my kill. Mine. And she stole it away.

Cato finally looked up from his sword, put it down on the warm ground by the fire, then picked up a rusty mace. I recall it as being the one Alea used. Cato is obviously unaffected by her death. Still, her passing doesn't really seem to concern an of us. District Four deserved to have a bad year.

"While I was there, Lover Boy tried to tell Fire Girl to run. Idiotic boy. He thought he could win. I stuck him pretty good in the leg before coming back to lake." So Cato cut Lover Boy in the leg but didn't kill him?

"Stupid girl thought she'd get away with it!" Marvel hissed. He was obviously sour about his district partners passing. Pointless really. She'd have to die anyway for him to win. Still, there's an itching at the back of my mind that if Cato had been caught up in that attack...

"So you killed her?" I pressed. I could just imagine her face, screwed up in pain as Marvel or Cato twisted a spear in her warm little heart...

"No." states Marvel.

"No!" I shriek, ignoring the plea's from my thumping brain and my rough throat. "What do you mean no?" He's quick to jump to his own defense.

"I didn't see you helping Clove!" he spits. "You just ran back here to hide!"

"Hide? I was saving myself! You had the perfect opportunity to kill her, and you blew it!" Imbecile!

"Oh, just like you did at the Cornucopia? And how about when she was up that tree? You're as light as a feather, you could have climbed it and stabbed her in the gut already! Oh no, sorry, you're too much of a Princess to do that! Just get Cato and me to do all your dirty work and then you'll slit our throats one night and that'll be it! You selfish little bitch!" I lunge for him, knowing there are no knives in grabbing distance and try and tackle him to the floor. He puts up a fight though, flipping me over onto my back as we struggle. We're both still a little shaky though, and we end up knocking the rabbits into the fire, charring them.

Cato stands up, towering over both of us, his voice irritated.

"Stop it!" he yells and we both freeze instantly, our heads snapping up. I'm under Marvel now, with my hands encased around his throat, his breath tickling my face as he breathes down my nose. I can tell he's been sick too, at least once, as he breath reeks of vomit. It's one of the many problems of not having toothbrushes in the arena. After a few days, everybody's breath is rancid.

"Marvel, Get. Off. Her." he says, and though it's soft the authority and venom in it is unmistakable. After a second of glaring Marvel complies, even offering me a shaky hand to get up. I just stare at it until he takes it away, shoves it into his pocket and I get up by myself.

Cato then grabs a broken branch and pushed out the two rabbits from the fire's clutches. They are burnt dry on the outside, but when he peels them open they are only slightly over-cooked.

We sit down and eat them in utter silence, Cato and Marvel having the largest parts of the rabbit for obvious reasons, and I get most of the rest. The cast-offs than none of us want are shoved into a pouch for next mornings breakfast. We may have a lot of supplies, but we're not going to waste. Cato passes me my plate last with a sturdy hand before he ticks into his own large portion.

Cato hands me a large bottle of water. "Drink." he says. It's probably the easiest order I've ever been told to follow for the past month. I guzzle down the full bottle before tossing it and greedily snatching a new one.

Despite my intense hunger, my rabbit goes unfinished. I basically strangle my plate, my stomach growling, but I can't seem to bring myself to force down another bite. I toss my nibbled portion to a desperate Cato, and he catches it mid-air and shoves it into his watering mouth. Marvel glares at him in vile jealously. We decide to sleep instead of hunt tonight. Even though we've all been out for at least two days we're exhausted. Marvel and Cato must be more injured than they let on.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm out" Marvel waves his hands semi-innocently in the air, heading over to the same tent I came from. Great.

My stomach churns at the thought of having to share a tent with Cato and Marvel but when I see a smaller, lone tent a few meters away, I can't help but look around and make a beeline for it. Cato has his back turned, stomping out the smoldering fire, prodding it with his foot.

I can barely hear my own thoughts as I yank the sleeping bag over my legs, then finally burrow into it deeply. It smells of home.

My mind starts to drift off, thinking of Hone, my mother, my proud father, when I heard the zipper of the tent being opened. I freeze for a second, cursing myself for the second time in a row for being so stupid for being without my knifes, but when I hear Cato sigh in exhaustion I let got of my breath.

I don't bother to question why he won't just take the other tent. I just let him slide into the sleeping bag, and feel his strong arms sneak around me and pull me into him. I snuggle into his chest, feeling as safe or safer than if I was back at home in bed in District Two.

_.-._

"Wake up!" Someone screams. My ears flick backwards, a subtle motion, but enough to send me scrambling for a nonexistent knife. This is ridiculous! How many times have I slept unguarded during the games?

My feet barely touch the cold, wet mulch when the person screams again.

"Wait! Clove!" I stop on my heels, already fleeing the sight when I notice that I was brought outside. How considerate.

The morning air cut through the camp like an ax through ice. Clean. Sharp. Pristine.

My mind finally alerts my body to what's going on. We're in the games, I am a Career district. This gangly, brown-haired idiot in front of me is my ally form District One. For now.

"What?" I barked, slowly calming my gaze to meet a shocked Marvel. He looked out of place in this makeshift camp. Whilst there were scattered embers, his derpy looking smile shone through his thin cruel lips constantly.

"He wants you." It wasn't hard to know who he was, but a chill trickled down my spine. Adrenaline pumped through my body still as I whipped my head back towards the golden cornucopia trying to find him.

"Why?" My body had barely woken up, I rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket, getting the crusty bits out of the edges. I really needed a wash.

"I'm not sure" I look around our campsite. There is only my tangled sleeping bag, which my eyes linger on it longingly, two tents, and the dying out camp fire. That's all. Everything else is gone.

I look up at Marvel, fidgeting with my fingers, then grab my knife belt that is strewn across a log near the fire.

"Where is he?" I growl, while Marvel grabbed a fish that he had caught with a spear, and stuck it onto long, willowy branch.

What did Cato want from me?

Marvel shoves me towards the Cornucopia and motion for me to go around. I rolled my eyes, then looked around. Nothing seems out of sight or at least different.

I stare at him, the secure my knife belt, snapping the buckle around my waist, then strut around the Cornucopia.

My ankle has healed completely, I can put pressure on it and not topple over, but there's something weird with my walking. Perhaps it will always be this way now. Until, of course, I win and the Capitol fixes me up. I lift up my shirt, and glare at the scars traced across my body. They'll be gone, I'll look like a fresh new canvas. Some victors hate it when scars are removed, they see them as reminders of hardship, and, too be honest, I can understand them Some things people go through just need to be preserved, for reasons of sanity. Others, however, must be forgotten.

Pulling the shirt back down, I freeze in my tracks. I pull it up again, and flap it around. I notice that this shirt, and jacket that Rox gave me are a size or two bigger. When I first came into the arena all my clothes were fitted, now they look like another persons. The shirt billows lazily in the slight breeze, only held in place by my knife belt.

My pants are now torn to shreds, rugged in some edges, stained in others. I can't even imagine how my hair looks, the weight of it on my head is enough to put me of thinking about it. I've never been one to care too much about my looks, but I must look like a disheveled, lost dog. Pathetic.

I run a hand through my thick tangled hair, wincing at almost every movement as my fingers get stuck in the knots and pull at my scalp. I cut a ragged strip of my pants off, tying my hair into a bun at the top of my head. That's a bit better, it keeps sweat from pooling at the nape of my neck, and I don't have to constantly move my hair out of my face. Now that my trouser cuffs are a uneven, I just snip the pants to end just above my knees. I strip the jacket off, and discard it on the floor, then tie my shirt at the back so it isn't again loose all over.

I instantly felt better, not as weighted down as I did a few seconds ago.

As I near the mouth of the Cornucopia, I take a semi-full water bottle, that was neither mine, nor Marvel's. It might be Cato's, he gave his old one to me last night.

I sprinkle some onto my face and feel it cut through dirt, creating clean trails on my cheeks. I decided we had plenty of water, so started to drizzle some on my shirt, legs and torso. I guess my hair needs some too. I haven't washed since the tracker jacker incident. I was half soaked when I heard a shout and clang a feet feet away.

"What are you doing with my water?" a young voice asked, I looked down from my 'shower', and saw a scrawny boy stand his ground a few feet away.

An enemy. He's weak and small, he can't be more than thirteen years old, but he may still be a threat. We haven't added anyone to our alliance, so he must be here to attack.

My hand instantly flicks a knife in his direction, but my aim was off due to my slippery hands, stll soaked with 'his' water. Instead of hitting him dead on in the neck, I knicked him in the shoulder.

He looked at his shoulder in surprise, then screamed when I charged at him. What is he doing here? My momentum carries me past him, so I stick out my foot to turn and pounce on him form behind.

The boy looked startled as my hands encase his neck. I slam him against the Cornucopia and his eyes sprakle with terror. I drum my fingers aganst this throat. This child will be the fiftenth tribute to die. Leaving us with only nine tributes. Only one more to die then, before the Games begin for real.

"What are you doing here, _boy_?" I snarl, my teeth bared close to his pulsing neck.

I could bite it out, but I've doen that once already, and I wouldn't want Enobaria to think I was trying to steal her thunder away.

Then again, maybe she wouldn't have so much thunder if people knew how easy it was to take out someone's throat. You'd think it would be difficult, to crunch your teeth underneath the flesh, to pull the veins out of the gaping hole you leave, but actually, with the aderinline pulsing around your body, and the thrill of the fight making you delusional, it's just as easy as eating a tender leg of chicken.

I'm starting to accredit her win to her amazing luck, and Brutus' never ending flow of sponsor gifts, rather than the fact she possessed any amount of actual skill. The odds were most definaltley in her favour. She's one of the 'lucky ones', like that Cecelia from 8. Not me though. I've actually got talent, beyond a nice body, a sharp tan, and long, flowing red hair.

It's a good job she can't here my thoughts, she'd wipe away those sponsors quicker than lightining. Then again, I've not even received any gifts yet. She probably just decided to let me die. Either way, she gets her paycheck. Bitch.

I draw myself back to reality, glaring into the scrawny looking face of the boy. It's little Spark, from District 3. I recognise the baby-face, the black eyes and hair are too dark for his pale skin. The ridiculous, buoyant, bowl cut he wears on his head (because Distirct 3 is functional, not fashionable) makes me smirk. Poor, hapless little boy. Oh well. This is the Hunger Games. Suck it up.

"I-I" He stutters, his bottom lip trembling in fear. I debate just killing him here and now, but I bet Cato has to know something about his. Either that, or he'll want to.

"I don't care, I'm bringing you to Cato." My voice was harsh and rough, losing it's morning drone. I give him an evil grimace.

He just gulps.

"Cato!" I bark, walking out of the mouth of the Cornucopia, dragging my trembling victim with me. Where is he?

My eyes scan the morning horizon, trying to find Cato. Instead my eyes were instantly drawn to a huge pyramid of supplies. It's like the Cornucopia recreated, only this pile is about twenty-thirty meters away from our camp.

The lesser value items are father away, scattered around the outsides, as if they'd just been thrown there. Things like empty rucksacks litter the ground, followed by half-eaten packets of crackers, and bits of beef jerky. A dehydrated hunk of pork sat at the edge, while a whole dehydrated pheasant was hung further. Fresher meats, like the rabbit we cooked last night, sit in special boxes, designed to preserve their contents. Bags of fruit like apples and pears hang off of the structure, intertwined with the nets that have been hung around.

Weapons grace the pyramid near the top, some balancing precariously on boxes of god-knows-what, others concealed deep within the mountain itself. I can see another belt full of knives dangling from a longsword, which is being used as a type of hanger for various objects.

I jog over, still grasping Spark by his collar, and go to thrust him down on the ground.

Cato's blond head whips around to me, and he holds his hands up.

"Clove!" I stop just before I release Spark. He squeals and struggles out of my grip, taking three rapid steps backwards.

Cato makes his way over, placing his feet lightly on the ground, as if it were delicate. I stare at him, the way he steps, you think the ground was going to split and send him falling to a fiery doom. He's been watching to many re-runs of the 43rd Hunger Games.

Thinking Spark is going to make a run for it, I sprint after him, spinning him into my arms. I take a small knife from my belt and press it to his neck. He is panting, scared, frightened. Like putty in my hands. Excellent.

"Cato!" He screams as I force the blade in deeper, teasing him with it. I make him wait for the warm blood to fall onto the ground. No yet. The Capitol will want some action after three days of nothingness. "Cato! Cato! I thought you said you would let me live!" He shrieks while flailing his thin arms everywhere, trying to push me off of his throat.

"Clove! Get off of him! He's one of us now!" What? Fuck that! What does Cato know about alliances? None of ours have worked out very well so far. I simply pretend to not here him as I drag the dagger across Spark's skin.

"Clove!" I felt Cato looming over me, his shadow covering me and District 3 in a blanket. Spark whimpered underneath me, but I'm not sure if it's me or Cato who's truly scaring him.

"Clove, he's our ally now." Cato says calmly. "You see that stack of supplies? Well, little Spark here took the bombs underneath the plates we came in on and re-activated them, so whoever comes close, or tries to steal our food, blows sky high."

Cato explains like I'm a child. What does he think I'm stupid or something? I fully understand that... that... that the boy in my arms is a genius that I was about to kill.

No one has ever thought about that. In seventy-four years, no one has ever realized this most simple of theories. The mines were a weapon and this kid is a whiz at mines and bombs. This is why District Three actually manages pretty well compared to the other districts, par one, two and four. They know things.

I groaned, and took away the knife from his neck, stuck in back into its makeshift shaft and got off of him.

"Cato!" I whine, starting to sound more like that deceased bimbo by the second. My tone shocks me, but the lack of blood spilled by my hands is starting to annoy me.

The boy gets up, then slinks back to Cato's side, whimpering, his eyes trained on me. I hiss and he jumps, diving for cover behind Cato's legs. I snicker.

"What are you staring at?" I asked the boy, taking my wet shirt off, leaving it to dry in the Cornucopia. I have my white tank top underneath, but it's still fairly wet, so it's pretty much see through.

I catch Cato gawking at me. "You to Cato? What?" I ask, refusing to look him in the eye. Cato shake shis head, turning back around to speak to Spark.

Marvel came nosily around the horn, causing the animals in the forest surrounding us to scurry away. Spark quickly scrambled to him, actually tripping once.

"Marvel!" he says, his voice filled with relief. Maybe he thinks the idiot will protect "Marvel, I set the traps!" Marvel nods approvingly.

"Good." replies Marvel, sauntering over to me and Cato. "You know the pattern?"

"Yes." states Cato. "Off by heart. You?" I decide to block out the rest of the conversation. It's just those three talking about the mines, and how the maximize the chances of finding the thief who's been stealing form us. Stealing? I never noticed. I bet it's either Jessaline or little Rue. They're both so fast and sneaky.

I stretch out my back, relaxing as my muscles welcome the change of composure, and I rip the tie out of my hair. Newly soaked, it falls down my back and I run my hands through it, tousling it and making the water come of it droplets. I can't help but notice Cato was standing there, staring at me, while Marvel and Spark carry on speaking. What's so entertaining about me shaking water from myself? I mean it's just water... and I.. Oh god. Cato is such a pervert.

Before I Cato the smiling reflection of Cato in the Cornucopia, my heart flutters for about two seconds, then I snatch the black, soaking t-shirt, shoving it onto my body. It hung and hugged my body awkwardly, but I'd rather deal with it until it dries than just wear that see-through white vest.

"So, left, right, step two times..." Spark shakes his head at a confused Marvel.

"No! Left, right, step one time. Two, and you'll in pieces."

Cato grabs a small pack and furiously stuffs it with dried strips of meat, a coil of wire a large knot of rope. Then, he takes a heavier one that Spark handed to him with trembling hands. It seems he only feels comfortable around Marvel, and who can blame him? We're considerably scarier than that soft idiot.

Cato mutters something underneath his thick breath, and Spark scurries off, bringing back lightly an armful of filled water bottles, one giant, squishy sleeping bag that we slept in last night, two pairs of night-vision glasses, an emergency first aid kit, a compass, and extra blanket. Where the hell does he think we're going?

I finally broke the silence as Spark scrambled away to the very edge of the circle, taking a plucked bird, gently breaking off it's wing. He stares at it, then tries to eat it raw. Marvel grbas it from him, tossing it back on the pile, and offering him some jerky. Spark eats it happily.

"Is Marvel coming?" I ask quite stupidly. Of course he won't. Who will take take watch over Spark and look after our camp if he does?

"No." replies Cato. "Come on Clove, it's almost midday, most of the tributes have probably roasted to death." He's right, the Gamemakers a re messing with the temperature again, and now it's boiling hot. We trek in the shade most of the way, to avoid getting scorched by the sun, which itself is probably fake.

When my feet reach about one hundred meters into the winding forest, some powerful force grinds into my back, causing the knives to press into my flesh, and me to gasp out loud.

My eyes flash towards and I see Cato leaning against me.

"What the hell was that for!" I yell. Cato ignores my shouts, still pinning against a tree. His hands were gripped on my shoulders, preventing me form moving. He held me in place so tightly, it was like... like he were to kill me...

"What are you doing!" I shriek as turn away, trying to reach down to my knife belt. But he's got me so tightly I can't reach, but even that doesn't stop me from squirming out of his grip and running back towards camp.

Maybe Marvel and Spark were in on this too. Or maybe they're on my side. Maybe I could make it to camp in time before he snapped my neck. Maybe his feelings for me were fake.

I feel hands close around me Cato takes my waist and pushes me up against another tree. My breath stops and my eyes fill with fear. He's going to kill me. I'm going to die. I shudder at the thought, but at least if I'm going to die, I'll die by Cato's hand. That is almost honourable.

Maybe it's better this way. For him to win, I would have to die, and I deserve it for being a fool to believe that he actually cared about me. It was Cato after all. I was even more a fool to start kindling my affections for him.

_ You idiot, Clove! You should have killed him when you had the chance! _But it's too late now. I close my eye and turn away. I would rather die in a pool of dark than see the light fade away.

"Do it fast." I mumble.

"Ok." Cato muttered. I expect to feel his sword plunge into my gut, but instead, I feel his lips on mine. I open my eyes, shocked and startled. Cato shoves me back softly against the tree and I feel the bark grinding into my back.

I take in my surroundings, we're in a thick patch of the forest, but even the musical notes of nature can't block out the crackling fire and Marvel laughing sadistically. We're not far from camp now, perhaps forty meters. I reach forward and push Cato away. This is wrong.

He looks at me, as if he wasn't expecting me to pull back. "What?" he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly like a puzzled puppy. I can't believe him!

"What are you doing!" I hiss.

"Kissing you." he says, as if it is totally normal and obvious. No shit.

"These are the Games!" I cry, trying not to speak too loudly for fear of being detected by our allies. "We were suppo-" I was cut off as Cato leaned in again, this time, holding my face so I could not break away. He caressed my cheeks, before moving one of his hands down my face and along my collar bone, letting it travel down my back, sending a shiver down my spine.

My mind raced back and forth, my body was tense, either to run away, and pretend this never happened, or to kiss him back with equal amounts of passion. My feelings are all jumbled, and my senses numb, so I end up just getting stuck in between, just wanting for him to be done.

He notices I am not resisting, and let's his other hand travel down to the middle of my back, pulling me into him at the hips and the chest. His tongue begs for entrance on my bottom lip, which I give him without thinking. His left hand sneaks up into my hair, directing my head to move in sync with his.

The way his lips feel against mine, the way he holds me up in this mossy section of jungle, the way his hands cover my still damp body and press me against his strong figure, I feel so much better than that time he kissed me in the Capitol. Compared to this, that seems shallow, meaningless, cold, even though at the time I could not have said I hadn't enjoyed it.

All of a sudden, my feelings are released in a waterfall flowing down on my mind, drowning it in a flurry of passion. I throw my own arms (which had just been dangling limply at my sides) around him, thrusting myself closer too him, if it were at all possible.

I can feel him grin against my lips, as our tongues battle for supremacy and dominance over the other, their fluent yet muddled movements perfectly symbolizing the state my mind was currently in.

"Cato..." I moan, pulling back for just a second to stare him in the eyes. The momentary break is all I need to collect my thoughts and realize just what I am doing. "Cato!" I scream, pushing him back off me.

My mind accelerated as Cato stumbled backwards, surprised at the sudden outburst of rage from me. Her tripped and fell, his sword clattering on the ground, while his body thumped onto the dirt ground. I'd just been kissing him. In the middle of the Hunger Games, I'd just been kissing my district partner. It wasn't right! I just didn't happen! This stupid, romance-thing was supposed to be Lover Boy's and Fire Girl's angle, not ours! But then again, was this really just an angle?

Yes. It must be. Nothing more.

"How could you?" I screech at Cato, who is quickly trying to pick himself up off the floor. I back away, reaching at my belt to find a long, dainty knife.

As he starts to get up, I just shove him back onto the ground once more with my foot/ I stand on his chest, glaring into his eyes, not with passion, like I was seconds ago, but with fury and rage and malice.

Cato stared at me wide-eyed, his jaw clenched.

I lowered myself closer, couching next t him, foot still keeping him pinned.

"How could you!" I swung the large knife that was almost weighed too much for me to hold. The sun reflected off it, creating a golden shine that covered Cato's face.

"I just- I don't! I just don't know okay!" Cato suddenly burst out, a hacking cough piercing through his throat. I watch him as he lies there, staring at me with something resembling fear, but with more passion and care.

I shove my knife back in my belt and take my foot off. I do not offer him a hand, but neither do I hinder his efforts to get up I just watch, flabbergasted.

This is Cato. The one with the blue, sapphire deep pools and light, thick hair. The one that people at home feared, but is softening to become wet clay in my hands. The one who saved me that day. The one who I convinced myself I cared for, and he cared for me. This is my Cato.

But I can't let him be that boy. "Then don't do it okay!" I could almost hear the sharp intake of breath from the Capitol people. I could imagine Brutus going crazy in anger, and Rox and Tatana squealing in joy. I can imagine Enobaria either trying to desperately hold onto our sponsors, or desperately try to manage the new crowd of lovestruck citizens willing to help us out.

I'm so confused.

"I'm sorry, I just had to. Just one last time. I'm sorry." He walked over, then wiped my mouth with the back of my smooth palm. As if to wipe away the two kisses he's stolen and to stop the feelings that are now starting to warm up from the inside out.

"Don't do it ever again." I demand, staring straight on, walking towards a random path in the forest.

My fingers are clenched together as I storm away. Why must he ruin everything!

_ Why did you let him do it Clove, why...? _I think somewhere deep down, I know the answer already...

_.-._

"Cato?" I asked. Despite me being crippled a few days ago, my ankle is fine now, and for ever 10 meters of Cato's walking I had 11. He had tried to trace me through the woods, but I'd quickly lost him in the foliage. And it pained me to say I was beginning to fret.

"Cato?" I asked again, for the forth time. Yet again, the muffled echo created by the forest is my only response.

That's weird. I haven't seen him for a long time.

A few minutes have passed when my worry began to escalate. I haven't seen Cato for about ten minutes, nor have I heard him. My heart starts to kick in while I have to grab a study branch for support.

My body doesn't listen to my mind, not one bit. I never does these days. It listens to my heart. My stupid, traitorous, treasonous heart.

"Cato?" I call, knowing I'm talking to no one, urging the trees to give me answers.

Why do I even care? One of us has to die in order for the other one to live. And Cato would gladly die for me, I think he's proved that! Maybe that's what is making me so emotionally flooded. Just that horrid guilt, that every victor has to deal with (despite denial in some cases, particularly in my own district). But something in my heart denies that. Tells me it's something more. A thick sense of wrong in my brain tries to conceal it over, but it's no use.

My head has finally caught up with my heart, succumbed to it, like the rest of my being did a long time ago.

I have feelings for Cato.

Otherwise, I wouldn't search so hard as I am now, plummeting myself against tree's broadcasting myself to the whole entire arena. Someone could easily jump out of the trees right now and slit my throat. But even the thought of me dying doesn't scare me as much as not finding Cato.

"Cato!" I scream once again.

This time I got rewarded with a flash of stark, coal dust, black. The colour of Cato's shirt.

"Cato!" I cry, just glad to find him safe and sound. The trees whip past me, creating a blur of green and brown stripes, that nick and pull at my clothes and skin. My mind doesn't control me, my legs do. My legs, powered by my thundering heart, which I can feel pulsing in my throat, filling me with a fear so strong I just feel like lying down and dying right here and right now.

Cato.

He's gone again.

Cato.

I spot another flash of his jacket now closer then before.

I spirit towards him, unaware of how much of an emotional wreck I am.

As soon as my body hits something rather hard I instantly pull it into and embrace.

Cato.


	11. Chapter 11

_takes out sword* Sever my head. DO it. I'm sos soosososososososos sorry that I havent been uploading lately. Yell at me all you want. And this chapter is.. kinda a filler.. You'll get your money's worth soon. Again, My apologize for my procrastination skills. ALSO ON A SIDE NOTE. Do any of you chatzy? If so I have a chatzy link where me and my friend co writing this chatzy :D I'm Johanna and She's Enobaria. Pm me for the link! Neverless. On with it. It's really really short compared to my other chapters._

He's alive.  
>He's okay.<br>But that doesn't stop me from stumbling backwards, landing onto the twig ridden ground again.

Thump.

My body shudders from the impact, my lungs trying to collect some wisps of air as they squeeze tighter. My mind reels into a daze, unaware if what is in front of me is real or if it is merely an illusion created by the thundering pounding coursing through my body.  
>Cato is alright. That somewhat calms me, but my pulse picks itself up again as I see his perfectly chiseled body laying two meters from me, the tight charcoal shirt stretched tight across his heaving muscles. I see my district partner is out of breath too. Great.<br>A groan escapes my trembling lips, finally processing that Cato is okay. I am okay. The knives in my satchel are okay, and, if I wanted too, I could easily slit his throat right now. He is down, this is probably one of the only times I will have the advantage over him. But something stops me, My mind won't let me think about Cato dying. It perishes the thought.  
>I start to hack and cough, my chest rising higher and higher with every stifle and shudder.<br>"Clove?" I hear him croak, through a similar raspy film like I have. Cato gets up slowly, at a leisurely pace, craning his neck and stretching out his broad muscles.  
>I on the other hand, am still panting, my breath heavy on my face, as if it to lacks the strength to soar into the air and float away. So much for having the upper hand.<br>"Clove? Are you okay?" Cato now walks toward me, trying to shake off a limp in his stride. Leaves and sticks are attached to his skin-tight shirt, barely hanging onto the stretchy material as his body sways next to mine.  
>"Clove? Hello? I said are you ok?" I blink once, then again, making sure that the dots in my vision are fading away. Shaking my head slightly (causing my temples to throb) I pinch my eyebrows together in concentration and refuse to make eye contact with Cato. He will not assist me again.<br>"Okay fine, don't tell me, at least let me help you up," Cato husked, almost demanding me too accept his outstretched hand. But I don't. I simply shake my head once more.  
>"What! You can't talk now! Your tongue wasn't so hidden a minute or two ago!" I take a deep breath, patting my palms dry on the remainder of the pants while still laying on the soft crunchy earth. Then, I prop a hand behind me, struggling to place my legs to support my weight. Rage finally consumes me and takes over as I get the sudden burst of energy I need to stand.<br>I build myself up to look Cato straight in the eye, but not with the caring or forgiving stare I know he wants. In fact, it's more of a glare, filled with malice and hate. I'll make sure I end this now. He needs to know where I stand. We're either equal, or we're nothing.  
>"You know what Cato!" I spit, throwing my scratched up arms in the air in a way which I suppose could be perceived as defeat, but we both know it is a request for him to leave me alone. To stop treating me like a child. To stop coddling me. These are the games, love will only break me down, not make me stronger!<br>We're no star-crossed lovers from District 12. We've trained. Our literal strength is our strength, not any metaphorical, lovey-dovey bullshit. We're here to fight. Not to fall in love. I ignore the shallow whisper slurring in my head, telling me I don't want to give up on this. Saying I don't want to give up on whatever dysfunctional relationship we have right now. Cato has been as hard as diamond through the games, but he still seems to care. But for how long? I ask myself. I am, in the long run, just another obstacle .  
>I should have stabbed him twenty seconds ago when he was down.<br>"What?" Cato screams. I hear a deer in the distance start to run along with a few flocks of birds fly into the open sky. I wish I could run with them. But I can't. Before I can face anything else in the arena, I must face Cato.  
>"I'm not some robot! Not like you think I am! I'm not going to stand here and let you use me when it's convenient for you! … I'm not going to do it Cato. Not anymore..." My words at first came out harsh and rough, my mind forgetting to stop my heart from speaking for itself. Then, they become soft and crumbling, similarly to the walls that I have guarded me for years.<br>Propping myself up against a tree, I sigh, then start to drink my half empty water bottle dry. I shake it once, forcing the small cedar coloured pouch to squeeze a large sloshing of liquid out, and despite the fact it is only water, it feels thick and gelatinous in my hands. As I weigh it up, I barely notice it slip until I feel it lightly tap my foot.  
>"Crap." I mutter under my breath, very aware of Cato's eyes trailing and tracing my every movement. His eyes fix on my foot where the droplets landed, and I hiss. "It's not that interesting!" I snap, going to fill my palms with another dose of water, before realizing the original liquid has not left my hands.<br>Perplexed, I can do nought but stare. If it wasn't the water that hit my foot, what was it? That's when my eyes first catch the glimpse of a large, bulky, man-made container laying three feet away from me.  
>A long, silver parachute drapes across and rests on my foot, wrapping my boot in a sparkly coating. That's what I felt hit me. My first sponsor.<br>I praise my mentor for breaking the awkwardness. There could be rotten eggs in here for all I care now. At least it killed the mood.  
>I walk towards it, falling to my knees to rest my hand on the ribbed exterior, but I notice it won't budge. I set my empty pouch down, and tried again with both hands, then once more time, but the sleek bands of silver metal were not helpful, they clamped shut, as if they were made to piss my off. I bet this is Brutus' idea of a joke.<br>My fury begins to build again, and I'm ready to kick the damn thing across the arena (maybe it will hit a tribute in the head and prove itself useful?) when I feel Cato's thick hands stop my foot in mid-air, holding it nonchalantly as he grabs the handle of the gift and lifts it off the ground.  
>My heart starts to pound as my eyes blatantly follow him, as he stalks off and examines the box. You'd think they'd teach us how to open the freaking things, if we're going to get them. I wonder if anyone's actually been killed whilst trying to figure out how to break into their sponsorship parachutes? If anyone's ever been so distracted that they've simply forgotten to acknowledge the competition? For some of the idiots that enter these Games, that seems plausible.<br>Cato's face screws up in focus, his blond hair starting to become lighter in the weathering sun.  
>I feel stupid. Idiotic even. Two Careers can't even get open their parachute. Pathetic.<br>It isn't until he places the box on his calf, and slams down on it with his fist that it breaks open with a single click. It's like it's been taunting us, and it's finally given up and took pity. Great. Now I'm even getting the sympathy vote off of inanimate objects. Fabulous.  
>He passes me the slip of paper inside, that I know will be from our mentors. Our fingers brush and tingles rush through my veins. I brush it off. I must.<br>Holding the slip steadily up to the sun, I read the fine, smooth, printed letters.  
>"Have fun ~ E&amp;B"<br>Have fun? That's it? No advice, not helpful comments? Just have fun? If I ever get out of this arena, I will punch them both. Even if it means a broken fist and bitten neck.  
>Disregarding the useless note with a flick of my wrist, my eyes flicked toward the hulking object that was in Cato's hands. It was defiantly a bottle of something, I could make out a pearly white texture inside, protected by thick looking plastic. In large, pristine, black letters, a single word stood out n the side. Bleach.<br>Bleach. Really?  
>Why in hell would Enobaria send me bleach? It's not exactly very helpful! What, I am going to have to clean something? Is she implying I need a bath. Cheeky bitch! Next time I see her, I'll get the bleach, and shove it up her...<br>"Us." Cato's voice cut though my ramblings. I hadn't realized I had been speaking out loud. Or, at least, I must have been mumbling.  
>"Fine," I snap back coolly. "Us."<br>But I still don't understand. Why bleach? And the little note 'have fun'? I mean, fun in the games is whacking idiots with a sword, or a knife, or hacking them with axes. Watching their blood spray everywhere in some kind of creepy gore-fest. Why would we need bleach for fun?  
>Then it hit me.<br>Literally and mentally. Cato placed the thick, heavy jug of bleach in my hands, causing my uneven footage to slip, and fall. My arms were extended, trying to balance the bleach and catch a hold on something, anything.  
>And anything meant Cato.<br>"Clove!" I heard his stark shout slice through the sylvan melody while ringing in my ears. My foot slipped farther as Cato's rough hands held me up, the heavy bottle resting awkwardly in-between us.  
>"I'm fine. Let me go" I remarked coolly as my emotions clashed together.<br>I'm angry. Angry at myself for allowing my feelings to brew. Angry at Cato for causing this... this... I didn't even have a word to describe it. My mind settled on the word uprising. Uprising fit well. My feelings should be bland and unwanted. I'm also very angry at him for many other things. Things that I wont say. Things that are better left right in the deepest, darkest part of my head.  
>Cato pushed me upwards towards him, trying to save me from falling as my feet slipped farther and farther. It's funny because he cares more about me then I do.<br>"Cato! Let. Me. Go." I grunt, trying to get out of his embrace, but still attempting to re-gain my footing. His body felt hot against mine, radiating warmth and emotions like a heater.  
>"Fine!" I hear him remark, feeling him letting my go. At first I think I'm balanced, so I step back cockily, only to hit my head against the cool slippery mud as my legs slide from under me. I was fine, until the bottle crushed down on my stomach, winding me completely.<br>My throat hacks up a cough, enough for Cato to cave into his soft side and bend down to pick me up. I stutter, shielding the sun in my eyes.  
>"Don't." I demand. Why I said that was more for my reasons than his. Infact, it's entirely fr my reasons. If he lifts me now, what was the point of the conversation prior? None, apart from wasting even more valuable arena time.<br>I see his blue eyes look down at me and his lips pout. "Clove..." His voice trailed as he notice I did nothing to allow him to help me. So, instead of getting me up, he kneels down, his face not an inch from mine. His hands cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look up at him. There was no escape, no where to hide. Fuck.  
>"Listen, Clove. I know you don't like me like I like you..".<br>"How do you know that Cato?" I interrupt without thinking. My minds gone on vacation again, it's still considering the whole bleach escapade, leaving my heart to deal with Cato. Bad decision.  
>Cato blinks, obviously confused.<br>"So, you do?" His eye brow arches dramatically as he adjusts his hands to either let me go or pull him closer to me.  
>My mind snaps back for a second and allows me to shake my head. Then, it goes walking again and leaves my body to deal with the consequences.<br>"Jesus Clove, is it that hard of a question! It's a yes no fucking answer!" He spit, letting me go once again. I watch as his face morphs to a wash of white, then flush to a bright scarlet red, before settling on an angry violet.  
>He stands up and begins to storm away, not very fast, but his fury is evident. Shoving the bleach bottle of my stomach, I stumble to my feet and lunge for Cato.<br>My voice comes out raspy and screechy as my hands fumble around him, my mind unaware of what I am doing. I think right now my mind and heart and working together to make one messed up lapse of judgment.  
>"Cato. No, I..." My sight starts to loose focus and my vision becomes spotted with white stars. My stomach begins to twist into a cramp and I can feel the beads of sweat trickle from my forehead down the bridge of my nose. I'm not sure what's wrong, but it makes me feel physically sick. Maybe it's what I'm about to say.<br>Just say it Carione. It's not like you're both going to be alive much longer.  
>"Yes Cato. I-I... I do."<p> 


End file.
